


Returns (Part 2)

by DarthAstris



Series: Returns [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Gore, Hurt/Comfort, If you read part one really none of this could possibly surprise you lol, M/M, Medical Procedures, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape, Returns-verse, SPOILERS: ALL CURRENT STAR WARS MEDIA, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2018-10-30 00:14:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 26
Words: 56,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10865061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthAstris/pseuds/DarthAstris
Summary: Kylo -- with the help of Luke, Rey, Finn, Poe, and Dr. Kalonia -- has brought Hux "home" to a hospital on Chandrila, in the hope that he will be treated fairly as a prisoner of war.  But will Hux survive the atrocities visited upon him by his own people? Will he want to?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapters in the Returns series update regularly on Tuesday nights (Japan time), unless something comes up. Please check my twitter for any notices regarding missed updates, or just to have a chat! @DarthAstris 
> 
> :D
> 
>  
> 
> Part 2 is now finished! Part 3 will begin in March, and post semi-regularly (I'll be on vacation from Apr. - mid-May, so updates will be spotty, but I am researching now and it is being worked on! :) )

_“This is Zeesha Graystone, coming to you live with a QCN exclusive report.  It appears that, just moments ago, the nefarious Starkiller himself, General Armitage Hux, was delivered to the Hanna City Veteran’s Hospital aboard this First Order command shuttle.  You can see the ship here just over my shoulder, still docked at the emergency landing pad.”_

_The camera zoomed in to show the familiar V-shape of a Sienar-Jaemus Upsilon-class shuttle sitting near the emergency room entrance of the hospital.  It cut back to the reporter, now standing near a teenaged, Mirialan boy._

_“I’m here now with Kees Hylar, who was present when the shuttle landed.  He was able to capture footage of its occupants as they disembarked.  Could you tell us what you saw?”_

_“Sure.  Yeah.  I was just waiting for my dad to come out.  You know, to surprise him and all, cuz he was supposed to get out today.  Anyway, so I had my HoloRecorder going, you know, testing it out, making sure everything was ok, and then this shuttle just_ whooshes _overhead,” he pointed behind him, “Yeah, it was that one, over there. And I know that it’s, like, a First Order ship, right? So, I’m thinking it’s going to attack, so I start filming, you know, to get proof that they shot first or whatever, but it just lands and then this older woman gets out.  She’s like, a doctor, I guess, cuz she was all in a white coat and stuff.  And behind her comes these two guys that looked like Jedi, and they’re, like, floating this big ass— sorry, um, this_ huge _Bacta tank.  Just_ floating _it, you know? Like, magic! It was incredible! Oh, yeah, and there was a dude inside it, too.  So, I tried to zoom in and stuff, to like, see who was inside, but the one guy, the Jedi in black, he like, looked_ right at me _and then he just held his hand out toward me like this and crushed my recorder unit. All the way from over there! That kinda sucked, but it was also_ super _wizard! I mean… they will pay me back for it, right?”_

_“Thank you, Mr. Hylar, I’m sure you’ll be able to get a new one soon.  Amazingly, we were able to recover the footage from the device, and we’re going to show it to you now.”_

_The viewscreen filled with a shaky but clear shot of the command shuttle flying overhead and making its landing.  The sound cut out in order to allow the reporter’s voice-over to be heard.  “As you can see, this is most certainly the shuttle in question.  The first to depart is an elderly woman, already identified as Doctor Harter Kalonia, one of the hospital’s top surgeons and trauma specialists.  One of the Jedi was, surprisingly, identified as Luke Skywalker, who was rumored to have been killed in the Jedi massacre some 5 years ago.  As you can see--” the image enlarged to show a finer close-up of the grizzled Jedi Master “--he is alive and seemingly quite well! The other Jedi, thought to be one of his students, has not yet been identified, but if anyone has a clue as to who it might be, please let one of our directors know so that we can help our viewers keep in touch with the latest developments.  Speaking of which--” the scene zoomed in to focus on the emaciated, pale form floating inside the Bacta tank. Sparse, close cropped shocks of orange-red hair were evident even through the blue-tinged gel. “We don’t like to speculate as to_ why _he's been brought here, but our analysts have made the preliminary determination that this is, indeed, General Hux of the First Order, mastermind and director of the Starkiller weapon which destroyed the entire Hosnian system just weeks ago.”_

_A side by side comparison of the profile of the man in the tank with several propaganda shots of Hux popped up on the screen, together with facial-analysis overlays to emphasize the likeness.  The camera cut back to the live view._

_“Once again, this is Zeesha Graystone with Queen of the Core Network, here live to keep you up-to-date on the latest developments at the Hanna City Veteran’s Hospital on Chandrila.”_


	2. Chapter 2

Sparks and flashes swam through Kylo's vision as the doors to the emergency room slid open to reveal the much brighter interior of the admissions lobby.  Nurses had sprung into action at Dr. Kalonia's orders, some already waiting for them with a repulsorlift to collect the Bacta tank, and others comming for doctors or running ahead to prep various surgical theaters.  It was a chaotic dance, much like a battle, though Kylo felt lost in the heart of it.

He lowered the Bacta tank onto the hovering pallet and relief flooded through him, not from the stress of bearing it, but rather the precious cargo inside.  Kylo's distress endangered Hux, and he was glad that someone else could take over for a moment.  As soon as the tank was stable, they took off toward the operating rooms, beyond where Kylo was allowed to go.  He stumbled after them until he met with the unstoppable force that was Dr. Kalonia.  She was so much smaller than him, but she was in her territory now, and her tiny hand on his chest may as well have been an impenetrable wall.

She spoke in a soft but firm tone, simply, so he could understand through the haze of his confusion and exhaustion. “You need to stay out here.  You’ve done all you can.  Now, let us do our jobs.”

“But, he needs—”

“No.  Ben.  You’ve barely slept in four days.  He _will_ need you, but not right now.  You’re going to have to be at your best, so for now, rest.  I promise I’ll come get you if anything were to happen.”

He didn’t want to hear that, didn’t want to tempt fate by acknowledging the possibility that something could go wrong.  Kylo closed his eyes and shook his head at the thought.

“Can I be of help?” Luke asked. 

In his distraction, Kylo hadn’t even sensed his uncle approach, which only lent merit to the doctor’s claims.  It irritated him, but the truth was unavoidable.

“Yes, come with me.” They walked away at a brisk pace, leaving Kylo dazed and fighting back the rush of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. “You can help us get him out of the tank and position him for the scans...”

Turning in a slow circle, Kylo realized he was alone in enemy territory.  The weight of stares -- from doctors, nurses, patients, and visitors alike -- knotted his stomach in apprehension as he shuffled back to drop into an empty seat. 

He had no friends here.

_At least no one seems to know who I am.  Yet._

_Hopefully, no one recognized Hux either._

Kylo slumped over and rested his head in his hands.  Hux’s agony hovered around the edges of his mind.  He could still feel it, even unconscious as he was.  The drugs his tormentors had given him had heightened his sensitivity to pain and prevented him from fully passing out, and they had yet to be completely flushed from his system.  It was overwhelming, maddening; enough to make Kylo question his own sanity.  He had no idea how (or if) Hux had managed to maintain his sense of self throughout all of it.  Kylo had put himself through severe trials to hone his powers and please his master, but he’d never felt anything as excruciating as what Hux had been through, and what he was going through this very moment. 

_I should be there…_

Kylo stood and started for the doors they’d disappeared behind, but stopped when he felt himself falter.  His mind spun every perception into such a sharp focus it seemed almost too real -- the lights, too bright; temperature, too hot; the features of every being's face, too detailed.  Even his reflexes seemed over-exaggerated. The doctor was right; he hadn’t slept much since they’d found Hux, or, really, ever since they’d started torturing him.  In this state he was more a danger to his husband than any kind of help.  The acute realization that there was _nothing he could do_ staggered him.  Where he had been strong and fearless, he now felt weak and afraid.  He’d brushed upon Hux’s sense of uselessness through the Force, but had never felt that way about himself until now.  A cold emptiness unfurled in his stomach.

He was taking slow, deep breaths to counter the dizziness and suppress the mounting urge to scream and sob and destroy things, when he felt a small but firm hand on his shoulder.

“Ben,” Leia said, turning him to face her. “Come sit down. I’ll find out what room they’re going to put him in and we can wait in there.”

Kylo nodded and did as he was told, taken aback by the gentle tone of her voice but the hard glare in her eyes.  He sighed.  Waiting was going to be anything but restful.  Once they were in a private room she was going to unload on him.

Leia’s emotions shifted through hues of fire: from disbelief, to frustration, to anger, to confusion and disappointed resignation as they walked the corridors of the hospital in silence.  He was certain that his mother could sense his feelings as well, though at the moment only numbness and exhaustion dominated his thoughts.  Kylo did not want to have this discussion, especially not now, but he knew he had little choice in the matter.

Down on the lowest level of the hospital, she led him toward a large, private room at the back of the intensive care unit.  Some of the other rooms’ doors were open, and Kylo’s heart started to drum an anxious pace after he caught brief glances of the conditions of other patients in the unit. Flashes of memory plagued him -- _Hux, naked and bleeding, struggling to breathe, so exposed and vulnerable hanging from that pillar in the center of the parade grounds_ \-- and he knew his husband had been near death _then_.  Seeing these other beings with their tubes and wires and wraps and machines drove the reality home even further.  Hux could _still_ die.  Here, even in this place of relative safety, Hux’s mortality was not out of the question.

Fear charged his skin like an electrical storm, prickling the fine hairs on his arms and the back of his neck.  He’d never thought about what he’d do without Hux.  How empty his life would be without the fiery ginger at his side.  The general had been a permanent and ubiquitous fixture in his life ever since he'd defected to the Order.  They’d settled into a comfortable pattern of fighting and fucking and fighting some more, almost as soon as he’d arrived.  Through the years it had become so much more, but he hadn’t realized how much until this very moment, when he stood to lose everything.  The obtrusive chill in his stomach wrapped its icy tendrils around his heart.

Leia ushered him in and closed the door, guiding him to the small bed that had been set up off to the side of the main one.  Pulling a chair over from the other side of the bed she sat beside him as he collapsed onto the mattress.  She didn’t say anything while she stroked his hair, but he could feel the tension in her fingers and see it in the deep lines around her eyes and pursed lips.

Kylo closed his eyes and sighed.  “I know you’re angry.  Upset with me.  Because…” _Well, because of a lot of things, actually_ , “…because of him.”

“Ben,” she started but stopped herself when she heard the edge in her voice, pausing to take a calming breath.  “I don’t even know where to start. _General Hux_? Ben… _why_? After everything else... Please, tell me he forced you into this. Somehow persuaded you with that demon tongue of his.”

Another flash. _Hux crying out in anguish, unable even to beg for mercy, his ‘demon tongue’ savagely cut out._

Kylo’s shoulders shook with his efforts to control the rekindled whirl of his emotions, or to simply focus on one.  He finally settled on sorrow, letting his tears fall freely.  It was genuine, but also manipulative.  His mother had never been able to stay angry at him when he was crying.  He hoped that hadn’t changed; he just couldn’t have this argument right now.

His mother’s instincts were perhaps stronger than Kylo suspected; Leia knew exactly what he was up to, but she also sensed that his turmoil was real.  It frustrated her as well.  _What the frack were you_ thinking _, Ben?_ But, she suspected she already knew the answer to that: like his father, it wasn’t his brain he’d been thinking with.  The mother in her wanted to scream at him, but the politician in her knew this wasn’t the appropriate time, so she allowed it to slide.  _For now_.  She only sighed again and continued to smooth her son’s tangled hair until he was breathing the heavy, even breaths of deep sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

_"This is Zeesha Graystone, with QCN, reporting live from the Hanna City Veteran’s Hospital on Chandrila. In case you missed our earlier report: shortly after our first broadcast, General Organa herself was seen approaching the mysterious shuttle and speaking with an unknown occupant, or occupants, inside, after which the shuttle moved off to one of the private hangars around the back side of the hospital. Something big is happening here, and remember: Queen of the Core Network brought it to you first!"_

_A clip played of the footage capturing Leia having a short discussion with an unseen being inside the shuttle before it took off again, then the camdroid zoomed in behind the reporter to show the nondescript, stone building that housed the hospital visitors' personal spacecraft.  Switching visual read outs to thermal, cutting through the darkness of the night sky, the glowing outlines of three humanoid beings could be seen standing out from the aura of the ship's cooling engines._

_"As you can see, no one has entered or exited the building since the shuttle was relocated, but there are 3 distinct biosignatures still inside.  From their movements, they appear to be either recounting a battle or having an argument.”_

_The smallest of the three made a slashing motion through the air and leaned in close to the other two lifeforms.  Heat bloomed in the others as they responded in kind, one appearing to throw up their hands in a sign of surrender or frustration._

_“Our specialists at QCN have since processed the shuttle's ident-code, and we can confirm that this is indeed not only a First Order ship, but a ship assigned to the purview of the_ Resurgent _-class Battlecruiser_ Finalizer _, known to be the flagship of the First Order and under the direct command of General Armitage Hux -- further proof that the man inside the Bacta tank could very well be the Starkiller.  So far, hospital staff have refused to comment on the matter. But there are a growing number of concerned citizens who have arrived since our first report aired less than an hour ago."_

_Refocusing on the foreground, several agitated beings milled about Graystone and her crew, and another, rival network could be seen deploying its camdroids and interviewing onlookers from farther away._

_"Among the citizens who've joined us is Ashik Kom, a mother of 4 who lost all of her children in the Hosnian Tragedy."  Zeesha directed the mic and camera to hover above the distraught Cathar. “Can you tell us a little about why you’ve come here today?”_

_The woman snarled, her tail twitching in agitation as she tried to control her anger and failed. “That monster killed my babies! He took my joy! My precious cubs! He should die for his crimes, and I’m here to see that he does! How dare they bring him here! How dare they treat him like any other patient! He deserves nothing but pain and suffering for what he’s done! I will kill him myself if they do not!”_

_Off-camera, other voices joined in approval of Ashik’s sentiments._

_“Your anger is understandable, of course, but we haven’t confirmed exactly what General Hux is being treated for, or even_ if _he’s being treated. The Resistance are well known for the secrecy surrounding their paramilitary activities, and, while torture is outlawed by the New Republic, we can’t really be sure how the Resistance conducts itself.”_

_Ashik’s fur bristled and she growled, “Then, I hope he dies slowly and in great pain!”_

_A chorus of cheers and hollers sounded from behind._

_Zeesha turned back to the camera with a frown of deep sympathy. “A sentiment echoed by many who’ve gathered here today, and throughout the galaxy.  Rest assured, loyal viewers, QCN will do everything within its power to bring you the truth on this most important matter.  We also have here Justice Edan Malora, formerly of the High Court on Hosnian Prime, to speak on the matter.”_

_The camera turned its focus to a tall, human man in his mid-40s._

_“First of all, Justice Malora, it’s a miracle you’re here with us at all.  We’re so fortunate that you had been called away to consult on a case here during that terrible tragedy.  So, thank you for agreeing to speak with us on such short notice today.  If this is indeed the Starkiller, and assuming he is tried in a court of law on Chandrila, what kind of punishment could the prosecution put forth? What could even begin to make up for the loss of the Hosnian System? How can we expect this to play out?”_

_“Well,” the bespectacled man pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose and ran a hand through his slicked, black hair, squaring his shoulders and clearing his throat as he did so. “Speaking from a purely legal standpoint, whatever his current condition, General Hux will have to first be rehabilitated to the point that he’s able to competently stand trial.  We are not savages, and we should not conduct ourselves in a manner that contradicts our intentions.  He will be given a fair trial, as is his due, so that there can be no question levied against the good people of the Republic, and no accusation that we did not live up to the laws that are the very foundation of our society.  If we do not do this, we will be no better than the Empire from which the evil of the First Order has sprung.”_

_“What might we expect, were he proven guilty?”_

_“Were General Hux tried and proven guilty in a Chandrilan court, we could expect the prosecution to put forward, at a minimum, a call for life imprisonment in a maximum security facility, most likely at an undisclosed location, as much for the safety of the workers there as for the accused himself. I do not believe they would settle for anything less, given the severity of the crime in question, even if there were some sort of trade of information or plea for leniency from the defense.  Chandrila has no capital punishment; however, I would also expect the prosecution to push for relocation to one of the few planets that does still allow for it, assuming they could argue a significant bias against trying him here, and assuming that the general could be safely transported to another planet.”_

_“As a former inhabitant of Hosnian Prime, may I ask: what are your personal feelings on the matter?”_

_Justice Malora took a deep breath and glanced upward before returning his steely gaze directly to the camera.  “As I have not yet decided whether I shall recuse myself from participation in this trial, if chosen, I’m afraid I must keep my personal inclinations to myself. However, I will say that, when it comes to a trial anywhere in the Republic, justice_ will _be served, whatever the outcome.”_

_“If your lot is not drawn for participation, or should you decide to step down, would you be so kind as to be a special correspondent for QCN throughout our coverage of the trial, to help the citizens of the Republic understand the often complicated and lengthy court process?”_

_“I would be delighted, Ms. Graystone.” He bowed with a slight flourish._

_“Thank you, Justice Malora.”_

_He nodded again as the camera refocused on Zeesha._

_“You heard it here first! Be sure to stay tuned to Queen of the Core Network for continuous, live coverage on bringing the Starkiller to justice.”_


	4. Chapter 4

Before they brought Hux into the room, two nurses came in to wake Kylo and hurry him and his mother out so the room could be prepped and sterilized.  The head nurse, a muscular, male Twi’lek with green skin and an intricate pattern of tattoos running the length of his lekku (one of which truncated just below his shoulder), helped set up the antiseptic field generators and then stepped out to speak to Leia and Kylo. 

His stern voice commanded their attention and snapped Kylo out of his grogginess. “I’m Nurse Anan Rol, you may call me Anan. I’m the head of this ward, and I’ll be taking charge of the general’s care for the evening and night shifts.  They’ll be bringing him in in a few minutes.  If you wish to stay in the room with him, there are several procedures that must be followed.  First and foremost, visitors will be strictly limited to immediate family.  No more than two visitors will be admitted at a time.  He will be under heavy sedation, but you must remain quiet at all times; the drugs still in his system make it difficult for him to attain true unconsciousness, and he needs all the rest he can get.  Due to his delicate condition, all visitors must pass through a sonic cleanser, scrub in, and be covered in a sterile gown, gloves, and surgical mask before they will be allowed in.  Long hair must be tied or pinned back, preferably covered.  Even with these precautions in place, we ask that you keep touching to a minimum.  Do not touch or move any of the tubing or instruments in the room, even if they look uncomfortable for him.  You may comm me or anyone on staff here if he needs assistance.  If he seems to be in any distress due to your presence, you will be asked to leave.  Furthermore, you will follow all commands of the doctors and nursing staff immediately and without argument or you will be asked to leave and may not be re-admitted.  Any questions?”

“N-no,” Kylo responded, anxiety constricting his chest again.  He didn’t like being told what to do, even less so when it came to Hux, but he would do whatever was required of him in the name of Hux’s safety and comfort.  He was uncertain about having a male nurse attend his husband after all the trauma he’d faced -- _Hells, having anyone touch him at this point_ \-- but he decided to give the Twi’lek the benefit of the doubt due to his confidence and professionalism.

“Alright. This way please.”

Anan led them to another room where they learned to attend to all the necessary procedures for cleansing themselves.  By the time they returned, Hux had already been brought in and resettled into the hospital bed at the center of the room.  Two nurses, both human females, one older and one younger, flitted from task to task in silence, checking and securing IV lines and other equipment that Kylo didn’t understand other than that it was sustaining the life of the man he loved.  Hux had been cleaned up and shaved completely, which made him look simultaneously much younger and older than his 34 years.  What little of his skin showed around all the bandages seemed translucent in its pallor; bruises bloomed everywhere like starflowers under a fragile layer of morning frost.

And just like that, Kylo's awareness and profound sense of oneness with the universe through the Force collapsed into a singularity centered on nothing more than his husband’s well-being.

Kylo’s lip trembled at the sight of Hux’s slack mouth around the tube that kept him breathing.  The ventilator clicked on and off, his chest rising and falling rhythmically to a wheezing, hissing sound not unlike that of his grandfather’s infamous life support system.  Another machine seemed to be drawing blood out through a small, metal dome embedded just under his collarbone (which stood out far more prominently than it should have), filtering it, then recycling it back in through a second dome beside it.  A feeding tube passed through one nostril, and at least ten different intravenous lines dripped various fluids into his arms and the large, central line in his chest, while catheters and various other tubes snaked out from the blankets they'd draped over his lower half.

Kylo sucked in a deep breath and swallowed hard, fighting back a fresh wave of tears as he came to stand beside Hux’s bed, back and away from the diligent nurses.  He wanted to touch him so badly, to be sure he was real, and not the wisp of a ghost that he seemed.

His mother's hand found his, gripping it in sympathy.  She could hardly believe the intensity of emotion emanating from her son toward this man, but it was real.  His love for this despicable war criminal ran deep and abiding, and she had no choice but to concede to it in this moment.  It sickened her, but it also gave her hope that all was not lost for her son; he was still capable of love even after all the horrible things he’d done.  _If only he'd turned that love toward his family, rather than..._ But, understanding could come later; now, only her support was necessary.

One of the nurses moved to the large displays on the wall opposite the bed, waving them on with a gesture.  Two of the screens showed static images: one of Hux’s skeletal structure, warped and broken in so many places it almost seemed inhuman; the other showed the disturbing damage to his internal organs, and the repairs that had just been made in the first of what Kylo was certain were many surgeries to come.  A third screen illuminated the room with a live feed of machine readouts, medication dosage meters, and current diagnostics and statistics, most of which were meaningless to Leia and Kylo.  The nurse regarded it for a moment before returning to her duties.

Anan approached and lowered his voice, sounding much gentler than he had when laying out the law earlier. “The doctors will be in in a few hours to explain the scans and discuss treatment options with you,” he whispered.  “In the meantime, we will continue to clean and suture what we can.  For family, that can be hard to watch.  Feel free to excuse yourselves if you need to.  There is no judgement here.”

Mesmerized by the macabre sight before him, Kylo nodded, barely hearing what was said. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Not at the moment. Though, I would recommend getting as much rest as you can before the doctors arrive.  There will be some difficult decisions expected of you; it would be best for your husband if you were as clearheaded as possible."

Kylo continued to stare at the two nurses as they sliced away infected flesh and scrubbed at exposed bits of bone, applying different salves to different types of wounds before wrapping everything with care. Kylo's nose stung with the metallic tang of the medicine they applied. It smelled as though it would be painful, and he wondered why they left some wounds open under loose bandaging, rather than suture or patch them, but he was too overwhelmed to ask.

Leia gave his hand a gentle tug to break the spell, and led him back to the spare bed again. "Rest, Ben. He's right; you're exhausted. I'll wake you when the doctors come."  A soft buzz from her pocket indicated an emergency call coming through. She held her comlink close and lowered the volume.

A young man spoke quickly, his nervousness evident even without Kylo's enhanced senses, "General, we've got a situation out here..."

"I'll be right there." She cut off the call and gave Ben's hand a small squeeze before leaving.  "Sleep," she mouthed over her shoulder at him as she disappeared down the hallway.

Kylo dropped down onto the mattress and tried to close his eyes, but felt too alert at the prospect of imminent danger.  He glanced over to check on Hux but couldn’t bear to see him in such a state.  With both of Hux's eyes bandaged, Kylo would have to rely on their bond through the Force to tell if he were sleeping, anyway, so he went back to staring at the work the nurses were doing.  If he focused on the details instead, he could almost ignore the fact that it was happening to his husband.  Hux’s mind hummed the low, static buzz of unconsciousness.  Kept at bay by all the drugs, the majority of his pain ebbed around the periphery of his awareness as if waiting for the tide to turn -- subdued for the moment, but rolling back in like the endless, unstoppable waves of the oceans.

Anan stepped out for a moment to check his own comlink.  Frowning, he returned and set about helping the other two again.

"What's going on?"

"They know he's here. There're some reporters outside stirring up trouble."  Kylo started to get up again, but Anan waved his hand dismissively. "I'm sure the general can handle it. Get some rest."

Kylo balked at being ordered about like a child, but, nonetheless, did as he was told.  His mother could definitely handle a bunch of foolish journalists.  He curled up on his side so he could keep an eye on Hux, and on the door, as he once more drifted off into a fitful sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

_“This is Kaede Karstenz, standing in for Zeesha Graystone during QCN’s continuous live coverage here at the Hanna City Veteran’s Hospital.  As you can see, despite the early hour, quite the crowd has gathered here.  We’ve been placed behind a Security Force barrier and told to stay back, but it seems the protesters could turn violent at any moment if their demands are not met.  Already, several arguments have broken out amongst those gathered here over heated debates on the necessity of capital punishment.”_

_The QCN camdroid swept over the growing number of beings milling about, some with HoloSigns projected into the predawn light:_

Send the Starkiller away!

Justice for the Hosnian Tragedy!

Death to the Starkiller!

Remember Liberation Day! No more attacks!

No Starkiller on Chandrila!

 _“For those of you who are just joining us, QCN has been broadcasting live from the Hanna City Veteran’s Hospital on the presumed capture of General Armitage Hux of the First Order, otherwise known as the Starkiller for his development and deployment of the superweapon that decimated the Hosnian system just over two weeks ago.  General Hux appears to have been brought to this hospital, in the capitol city of Chandrila, in dire need of medical attention. Whether or not he is receiving that attention remains to be seen, as hospital staff, and Resistance personnel, have refused to disclose his condition or even to confirm that he is, in fact, a patient here. However, a number of proofs have been made available by the dedicated QCN staff and camdroid operators, and devoted citizens such as yourselves: footage of a shuttle -- later confirmed to belong to General Hux’s flagship, the_ Finalizer _\-- landing in the emergency zone and showing two Force-sensitive passengers disembarking with a Bacta tank, allegedly containing General Hux, was proven to be authentic.  Shortly thereafter, General Organa, of the paramilitary organization known as the Resistance, was seen discussing something with the presumed pilot, who then removed and parked the shuttle in a private hangar.”_

_“About thirty minutes later, a landspeeder arrived and quickly shuttled off the three human occupants of the command shuttle.  Two, a male and a female, have yet to be identified, but the third was easily recognized as the infamous X-Wing pilot, Commander Poe Dameron, currently wanted by the New Republic Defense Fleet on charges of going AWOL and dereliction of duty. Though his resignation of his commission was received by his superiors, it was never approved, and as far as we know there is still a standing warrant for his arrest.  The three were followed to a local hi-rise apartment owned by Organa herself.  QCN is standing by at the location now, but so far the occupants have remained inside with the windows shielded.”_

_“In an attempt to uncover the truth earlier this evening, several beings allegedly slipped past hospital security in a confrontation that ended with two arrests for unlawful entry and possession of falsified identification, and the possession of dangerous implements on hospital property.  We have no word as to the nature of those ‘dangerous implements’, and the two detainees were whisked away by the HCSF too quickly to be questioned.”_

_The broadcast cut to a replay of the camdroid drawing ever closer to the Cathar woman, Ashik Kom, and an unknown Pantoran man struggling in their binders and shouting expletives as they were hauled out of the hospital by two masked Security Force lieutenants.  Four more HCSF officers escorted the pair, followed by General Organa and Master Skywalker.  A breathless Zeesha Graystone could be heard jogging up to question them before the guards turned to block her path._

_“Master Skywalker! General Organa! Is it true that the Starkiller is in custody? Is he being treated at this hospital?”_

_Leia, who had been saying something to her twin, turned abruptly at the interruption.  Her features remained neutral, almost pleasant.  After decades of dealing with journalists and camerabeings, she kept her shoulders back and her head high, making direct eye contact with the camdroid’s optical receptor.  The same commanding air that could silence a symposium of senators emanated from her in full force._

_“We can offer no comment on the situation at this time. You need to stay back, or you will be removed from the premises.”_

_Visibly shaken, Zeesha pressed on, “W-with all due respect, General, you have no right— no authority to do that.  I have a duty to the public interest; the people of Chandrila and the Republic have a right to know! Have you considered the dangers that housing the Starkiller—”_

_“Have you considered the danger in which you’re placing hundreds of patients at this hospital? Thousands of inhabitants of this city? Millions on this planet? If you really believed you were doing the pubic a service, you would cease this speculative prattle and leave. Now.”_

_Zeesha looked appropriately chastised, but recovered quickly, “Master Skywalker, do you have anything to say?”_

_“I believe my sister has told you everything you need to know.” He pulled up his hood and turned to follow Leia back into the hospital._

_Even as Zeesha and the cameraman, and several protesters, were ushered back up to their observation post on a nearby hill, she continued to call out to the unresponsive pair. “Why were these people arrested? Is Commander Poe Dameron facing a court martial? Will hospital director Caelan take responsibility for any attacks that might occur on Chandrila due to the Starkiller’s treatment here? Will the Resistance?"_

_Kaede’s voice cut in over the fade-out of the footage of HCSF landspeeders flying away with the suspects in custody. “As you can see, no bloodshed was observed, but anonymous sources say the alleged trespassers were handled roughly by Hanna City Security Force personnel, until Luke Skywalker himself intervened and ameliorated the situation.”_

_The view returned to Karstenz and the protesters behind him._

_“Many here have raised concerns that imprisoning or trying the Starkiller on Chandrila will entice the First Order to attack, in an echo of the Liberation Day massacre 30 years ago when agent of the Empire, Grand Admiral Rae Sloane, visited under the guise of crafting a peace treaty.  As the interim seat of the Republic government, it is widely known that Chandrila ranks highly on the First Order’s list of targets, and their mysterious withdrawal after their skirmish with Resistance fighters on the relatively unknown, uninhabited planet of Crait over a week ago has raised concerns that they may be planning something much bigger. Some conspiracy theorists have suggested that the First Order allowed the capture of General Hux in order to justify further all-out attacks on Republic space. Another, less popular theory suggests that General Hux could have made a deal with Resistance leaders to defect, offering information in return for his safety. Whatever the reason, we at Queen of the Core Network promise to get to the bottom of it, and when we do, you, loyal viewers, will be the first to know.”_


	6. Chapter 6

Kylo didn't think he'd slept for long but he woke to the sound of shuffling feet and muffled, unfamiliar voices.

"...aside from that, I’m not sure we can work with this.  Look at this old fracture, the way the bone has callused here. And this one; he couldn't have been more than 4, 5 years old. Clearly, it was never properly treated."

A younger woman's voice: "He's from Arkanis, isn't he? Weren't they under siege then? Perhaps they had limited or overtaxed medical facilities."

"No. That's not it at all... These kinds of fractures, these untended wounds, they span over decades.  Possibly, some of them could be passed off as accidents, training, or war wounds -- I've occasionally seen the like in Stormtroopers who’ve defected -- but there's no excusing the shoddy way this healed. Or, this nerve damage here at T2, T12, and here at L3, which likely occurred sometime between the ages of 10 and 15.  They were deep slashes -- some kind of blade or perhaps a dreadfully strong lash, in keeping with the patterns of this other scar tissue.  He must have been left with chronic pain.  These wounds were most likely deliberately inflicted throughout his childhood and well into his teens, and left to heal on their own without much, if any, intervention. It's abuse, plain and simple."

The other doctor clicked their mandibles in disapproval and stood there shaking their head as Kylo came to, listening in on the conversation for several minutes before guilt drove him to stretch and sit up so they'd be aware of his presence.  He had long suspected Hux had been abused as a child, but not the extent to which he had.  Suddenly, certain of Hux’s interactions and mannerisms made more sense to him; Hux had been covering for his pain, both mental and physical, with his detached brusqueness and frequently snappy attitude. Though Kylo felt a twinge of shame at wanting to hear more, it wasn't right for them to discuss Hux like that, private room or not, especially with Hux lying right there behind them.

"Ah, Mist— err, Master Solo, good morning," one of the doctors, a Pantoran woman, said. "We were just discussing—"

"My husband's childhood. I know. I heard. I'd appreciate it if you'd keep your speculations to yourselves."

The eldest, and seemingly most senior among them, spoke next, her lekku shivering in embarrassment, "My apologies, Master Solo, but some of these old injuries of his are quite relevant to the matter at hand.  I’m Dr. T’ualla, head of general surgery—" she gestured to the Pantoran woman and then the Verpine, "—and these are Doctors Borovia and Ek-Tal. They are both orthopedic surgeons, and organic and cybernetic prosthetics specialists from Chandrila and Mechis III, respectively."

Kylo felt his stomach knot at the mention of prosthetics and knew that his time of relative ease, if it could be called that, had come to an end.

"I’d like to discuss what would work best in your husband's situation. If you'll step over here for a moment, Master Solo." The Verpine extended one serrated limb toward the space they made for him by the screens.

Kylo dreaded every step he took, his feet heavy on the plasteel coated floor, knowing he plodded toward a future from which there would be no return.

They had highlighted a section of Hux's leg and zoomed in to view the bone structure.  A wicked break in the femur, just above his knee, had been pushed back into place temporarily by Dr. Kalonia during their escape.  Kylo recalled exactly when the break had happened, just days before their arrival -- the shock of Hux's pain had ripped through him, and his own leg had given out as they were loading the ship.  Just seeing it sent a shiver of sympathy through Kylo. 

Below the knee, Kylo could see one of the badly-healed breaks the doctors had been discussing.  Dr. Ek-Tal gestured to it, following the thin, ragged line with their claw.

“I would like to install the prosthetic along this break, just above the weakness in this area, as it will be a simple matter to cut through the bone at this point. This would leave him with a longer recovery period, as he would have to wait for the femoral break to heal before testing the prosthetic; however, only having to learn to manipulate two jointed segments -- the ankle and toes -- would be easier for a first-time amputee.  The other option is to take the leg off at the femoral break, which needs to be treated anyway and which would make for a shorter recovery, but a longer learning period, as he will have to adjust to manipulating the knee and ankle joints, as well as the toes.  As you can see—” the doctor lifted the sheet covering what took Kylo a moment to realize was Hux’s left foot -- it had become a swollen, putrescent mass of blackened flesh, oozing pus and blood even after the nurses had done their best to clean it, “—there is no saving this foot. The bone infection has already begun to spread and if we hesitate any longer, we will be out of choices as far as the site of the amputation is concerned.”

Kylo stared at the wound, his mind struggling to bridge the disconnect between the ghastly injury and the internalized image of his husband’s beautiful body.  He’d seen countless slaughters, walked among the dead and dying, their entrails scattered and smeared into the ground, but he’d never had to deal with this kind of mutilation on a living being, and certainly not one that he loved.  He felt sick.  The air in the room felt too hot, suffocating him.

The doctor’s voice cut in softly, breaking through his morbid spiral into panic. “I can work with either option, but the decision should be made as quickly as possible.  We have hours, at most until midday, to decide.  Additionally, the third, fourth, and fifth toes on his right foot will need to be replaced, as well as the fourth and fifth fingers on his right hand; however, Dr. Borovia and I are confident that the right foot and both hands can be saved at this juncture, so long as we act quickly.  There are no other decisions to be made at this time, other than for you to grant consent for these operations to be performed.”

Returning his attention to the more sanitized view on the screens, Kylo considered. He didn’t want Hux to suffer any more than he already had, and a longer recovery time would just make all of the other healing he had left to do that much harder.  The more leg they removed, the less pain he would be forced to endure, and the safer it would be regarding the spread of infection, Kylo hoped.  But, at the same time, he knew Hux would want to keep as much of his original body as he could.

No clear choice existed.

His voice came out so flat and mechanical-sounding that Kylo hardly recognized it as his own. “Take it off above the knee so he can heal faster.  You have my permission to do whatever it takes to save his life.”  He grimaced as he said it, having to remind himself that this hadn’t really been _his_ decision at all.  Yes, he’d uttered the words, but the decision had already been made by those who’d tortured Hux.  The outcome had always been inevitable.

That didn’t make it any easier to accept.

The Verpine nodded and told the nurses to begin prepping Hux for surgery.  “We’ll begin as soon as he’s been made ready.”

“Y-you’re taking him now?” Kylo felt as if he’d barely had any time to get used to living with this uncertainty, with Hux's fragility, and yet they were already planning to whisk Hux away again to fight for his life. “But, he’s barely rested from the first surgery. He’s so weak already and in so much pain and—”

“Yes. It is a risk,” Dr. T’ualla said, placing a hand on Kylo’s arm to calm him before he could get worked up again, “but the sooner we can remove the worst sources of his infection, the sooner he can begin to recover.  And Dr. Borovia will work to set the bones in his hands and remaining foot at the same time, so that we can accomplish as much as possible at once.  After this, we’ll give him a few days to rest and recuperate before we follow up with the other surgeries.”

The touch startled him, but he didn’t react.  He’d forgotten what it was like in Republic territories, where people tended to interact through touch more often.  Kylo breathed deeply to steady himself, knowing this was for the best, but also wanting to delay the inevitable loss that Hux faced.  Unbidden, a very private memory surfaced: _Hux’s legs wrapped around his waist, muscles straining and urging him closer as Kylo pushed deeper inside him_ … Kylo’s hand went to his mouth, as much to cover his flush of embarrassment as to guard against the continuing nausea.  He thanked the stars that there were no other mind readers present at the moment.  At least it had brought forth a relevant question. “How… realistic will it be? How will it feel for him?”

Dr. Borovia spoke up, “If I may, Dr. Ek-Tal?”  The insectoid spread their vestigial wings in deference to their colleague.  “There have been a number of major advancements in synthflesh and bioskin replacement over the last decade.  I can assure you that these prosthetics will be the most advanced artificial limbs available to date.  We are now capable of re-growing nerve tissue to the extent that it can be successfully married to technological synapses through neural interfaces, and with further advances in technology, we are now able to create flesh-like coverings that have 99.85% of the full range of sensation of organic limbs: sensitivity to heat, cold, and varying degrees of pressure, including both pleasure and pain.  Additionally, the wearer has the ability to turn off physical input in possibly dangerous or painful situations, or if the limb should need to be removed for maintenance or cleaning.  Of course, it will take him some time to learn to maneuver these prosthetics, and to become proficient in their use, but, in time, they will come to feel as natural as the ones he was born with.  Anyone who didn’t know he’d had replacements would never be able to tell.”

Kylo doubted that such a thing could ever feel “natural”, but at least Hux would be able to appear “normal” to those who would judge him.  He knew that was of utmost importance to his husband.  Even though he loathed his body, Hux could be vain to the point of obsession whenever it came to people’s perceptions of him as a competent and worthy officer.

“Any other questions?”

He had a billion questions, all spinning through the vortex of his mind, but he couldn’t pin any one of them down.  Words flew past like he’d slapped a button for a conversational hyperdrive and couldn’t find a way to drop back into realspace.  He shook his head.

“Ok. Now that that’s settled, let us discuss what else needs to be done,” the Twi’lek said, switching the display to focus on Hux’s internal injuries.  All of Hux’s organs seemed too swollen and more crammed together than they should be.  “Due to the severe dehydration he suffered, his kidneys are functioning at only 7%, so until they can be replaced, we have him hooked up to a dialysis machine to filter his blood.  We will continue to push heavy amounts of antibiotics and fluids until such time as he is ready for a transplant.  His liver is also failing, and will need to be replaced.  Dr. Borovia is overseeing the cloning and growth of these new organs as we continue to monitor his lungs and spleen as well.  These rib fractures will prove most problematic once we take him off the ventilator.  I addressed the worst of the breaks in the first two surgeries we performed, fitting them with biosheaths that will dissolve over time as they temporarily stiffen and strengthen the bones, but I’m afraid there’s little else to be done aside from binding his chest until we can get him back into a full Bacta immersion.  Despite the alarming number of fractures, relatively few pierced his lungs, so I believe we can avoid having to replace them or fit him with a breathing regulator.  We will have to closely monitor his oxygen intake, as his instinct will be to breathe more shallowly, due to the pain, once he’s on his own.  As for what else we’ve accomplished already, the rectal prolapse he suffered has also been repaired, as well as other lacerations to his colon and intestinal tract.”

Kylo blushed again at the doctor’s casual directness in speaking of the sexual assaults Hux had endured. 

 _They hurt him enough to… to…_  

Anger flared up within him, hot and vibrant, seeking an outlet, but there were none here; he didn’t dare damage anything in this building or take it out on the doctors who were doing their best to keep Hux alive.  He took another deep breath and exhaled through clenched teeth.  He had to remain calm for Hux’s sake.  

“I know this must be hard for you. I’m sorry,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder for a moment before turning back to the viewscreens.  “I will, of course, arrange for therapy sessions once he’s awake and progressing through his physical recovery. I can’t even imagine what hell he must have been through, but he really should have someone he can to talk to about it in a professional and confidential capacity.”

Trying not to think about it any further, Kylo nodded his assent.  Hux had barely spoken to Kylo of his past; he doubted that Hux would be willing to open up to anyone else about the horrendous traumas he had faced.  Still, he thought it a good idea to try.  Hux would fight it, like he would any kind of care, but he needed it.

“As for his other medical issues, the other fractures in his limbs that were temporarily set by Dr. Kalonia will need to be re-set, and finally, any facial reconstruction needed will be performed, including replacing his teeth and continuing to monitor the re-growth of his tongue and healing of his jaw and concussions.  And, if the brace and continued bed rest don’t take care of the stress injuries to his neck, we may consider surgical intervention there as well.”

Dr. Borovia added, “I believe Dr. Kalonia already informed you that there is nothing that can be done for his missing eye.  The nerves around the site are indeed too damaged to be regrown or even attached to a serviceable replacement, either organic or bionic.  It’s something of a miracle that there wasn’t any brain damage, as far as we can tell at this stage, given the depth of the injury.  For now, the socket has been cleaned and packed with G-5s and other healing agents, and then it will be temporarily lined with synthflesh to seal the hole and protect it from further infection.  So, General Hux can decide at a later stage whether or not he would like some kind of cosmetic fitting, or a simple covering of synthflesh to close the wound.”

Dr. T’ualla added, “As soon as his infections have cleared, and all the surgeries are complete, we can begin to finalize his treatment with Bacta immersion.”

Kylo remained silent for several minutes, trying to process all of the things that had been said.  His mind still felt sluggish and muddy, though he felt he’d gotten plenty of sleep, considering.  He'd forgotten that Chandrila only had a 20-hour rotation period.  Finally, he asked, “How long will all of this take?”

“If no complications arise, we should have completed the surgeries by a little over a week and a half to two weeks from now, allowing for a day or two more, now, to clear out the remainder of his infections, and a day or two of rest and recovery to see how he does between each operation.  Full Bacta immersion will add another few days to that, followed by about a week of shorter immersions, during which we’ll begin weaning him from the paralytics and sedatives and take him off the ventilator.  By this point, his injuries will be healed to where we can consider upgrading him to stable condition.  Even with the sedatives and paralytics out of his system, it will be at least a week or two before he’s able to begin moving about on his own.  He will be extremely weak, and tire easily, after such an extended sedentary period.  He will need a lot of assistance during the following one to three months, at least, while he completes his physical therapy, which could last as long as six months.  The drugs they injected him with could take up to six months or more to clear out." In a lower voice, she added, "It is possible, given the extent of his injuries, that he will never fully recover or be 100% pain free.  It also depends on how dedicated he remains to his therapies.”

“I’ll do whatever I can to help him.  Please, just tell me what I can do.  Anything.”

Dr. Borovia smiled, “Well, for now, there isn’t much you can do, but I’m sure if you ask the nurses they’ll be happy to let you take over any basic, day-to-day personal care, and show you how it’s done.  I need to begin preparations for his surgery, so we’ll let Dr. Ek-Tal take over from here.”

“Thank you,” Kylo inclined his head in a slight bow.

The two women exited and left Kylo alone with the Verpine.  “The surgeries should be complete in about 5 to 6 hours; afterward, we’ll keep him for observation for another hour and he’ll be back in the room shortly after midday,” Dr. Ek-Tal explained, tapping a few notes into their datapad.  They stepped aside as the nurses floated the transport stretcher in and got to work transferring all the equipment and medicinal drips over. 

When it came time to move Hux, Kylo stopped them.  “Wait. I can do it, if it will be easier on him.”

The nurses looked to him and the doctor in confusion.

As a quick demonstration, Kylo closed his eyes for a moment to attune himself to the Force, and lifted the bed he had been sitting on several centimeters from the floor before setting it down gently.

“Well, that certainly will be useful,” the doctor buzzed their wings in surprise, but hesitated, considering their patient’s safety. “Can you keep him absolutely still and in the same position while doing… that? It’s crucial that his injuries and the equipment not be jarred in any way.”

Despite the doubts that plagued him, Kylo responded, “Of course. Yes, I can do that.”

“Then perhaps that would be worth trying; transfers can be painful, additional stressors for patients in his critical state.  I do believe it would be more comfortable for him and for the transfer team if you were to help.  If you’ll follow the instructions of the head nurse, you may do so.”

Kylo nodded and waited for the signal.  Little by little his confidence returned as he levitated Hux from the bed and floated him over to the new one.  _What if you drop him? What if you nudge some machine off? What if you re-open some wound and he bleeds to death?_   He didn’t allow any of the fears circulating in the back of his mind to distract him from his task.  _You’ve done this before, and you’ll do it a thousand times over while you’re here. He’ll be fine_. _You can do this._  

Guided by the skilled hands of the nurses, he settled Hux into his new position without so much as a single tangled or tugged line, and no more pain than the baseline that already constantly emanated from his husband. Once the team had checked that everything was in place and that he’d remained stable and unconscious, they hurried him off to the OR.  Kylo jogged beside them, sending his thoughts to Hux until they reached the threshold where he wasn’t allowed to enter.  Kylo pressed his lips to Hux’s forehead and sent, *I love you, Tage.* He hoped Hux could hear him, somewhere deep down, even if he couldn’t respond.

*Everything’s going to be ok.*

He hoped he could believe that, too.


	7. Chapter 7

At least, this time, Kylo wasn’t alone in the waiting room.

When he finally turned away from the doors -- those vile doors that kept him separated from the man he loved -- Kylo saw that his uncle had taken up residence in one of the seats near the back of the room.  Kylo hesitated, unsure if he wanted to talk to anyone, or worse, endure the lectures of his elders, but Luke’s sad smile and gentle gesture beckoned him over.  Not sensing any antagonism in the older man, Kylo gave in to his exhaustion and wandered over to sit beside him.

Luke waved a hand to turn off the HoloDisplay on the wall as Kylo slumped into the chair and once more rested his head in his hands.

“You can leave it on.  I know they’ve found out that he’s here.”

Luke put a hand on his back, rubbing side to side across his tense shoulders. “But you don’t need to hear what they’re saying.”

“I _know_ what they’re saying. I’m not a child. I—” Kylo stopped himself and let out a loud sigh of frustration.  He had only sat down in hopes that he could _avoid_ an argument, not start one himself.

“You’re struggling. Your anger, your fear; I can sense it.”

“I’m not mad! I’m—” In truth, Kylo didn’t know what he was feeling anymore. It seemed he’d been so angry for so long, and all that was left was a mirror of Hux’s constant pain -- a never-ending drone in his mind, reminding him that the rage could surge and snap through him at any time, but for now lay simmering in numbness and exhaustion. “I’m just… _so tired_. He hurts _so much_ , and I— I just... I can’t...”

After a while, Luke stood and moved a few steps away. "Come with me."

"No, I— I should stay. In case anything—"

"It's not far."

Kylo hefted himself out of the chair with a sigh and followed his uncle down the hall to a small room.  He gasped as he entered the quiet, unassuming space with its candlelit interior.  At the front of the room, raised on an unornamented dais, sat a massive crystal. It pulsated with the light of the Living Force, and Kylo stared at it in awe, feeling a wash of peace and calm that he'd not felt in— _longer than I can remember..._

A young woman knelt before it, clutching something in her hands, seemingly lost in meditation or prayer.  As he passed by, following Luke off to the side, Kylo recognized her as one of the night nurses who'd been tending to Hux.   _She must come here after her shifts_.  He wondered whether she were Force-sensitive, but didn't ask, not wanting to disturb her.

Taking up a meditative position beside his new master, Kylo frowned.  It felt almost shameful to be in this place, as if he were desecrating it with his very presence, the darkness of the things he'd done seeping into the kyber, tainting it.  At the same time, it felt like a betrayal of his blood, even though he'd chosen to abandon the Dark.

Snoke hadn't poked at him for some days now, though he had felt his diaphanous form prowling the edges of his psyche, waiting for a moment of weakness to spring.  He feared that this could be that crucial moment of distraction, but, here, Kylo was alone within the infinite Force, where he could touch that sense of wonder and oneness that he feared he'd lost forever.

"Let it in," Luke said in a soft voice, "Don't fear it. Don't think about it. Just be."

Kylo took a shuddering breath and let down his guard enough to feel the warming energy of the Light.  The more he relaxed into it, exploring the shimmering swirls and eddies of power, the more he noticed the subtle shadows that coursed through the flow. Though he'd feared it would reject him somehow, it embraced him as unconditionally as his own mother had when he'd been a petulant child.

*Do you see it?*

There was a balance in this place, the kind of which he longed to achieve inside himself without the constant struggle.  It was easier to luxuriate in the image of himself in possession of his full potential: strong, powerful, in control.  Able to walk in the shadows without slipping too far into the deep night, or burning out who he was in the brightness of the day.  A brave and respected (and feared) leader of the people. 

*Yes,* he replied, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. *It's... beautiful.*

*It's you. The kyber magnifies the Force.  It shows us as we truly are.*

He understood, then.  It wasn't the crystal in his lightsaber that had been broken, manifesting its power in sputtering fury, it was him.  Hoping for a vision, for some clarity, Kylo sat patiently and opened his mind, unafraid, for Snoke had been chased away by whatever purity lie here.  A brief image fluttered into existence: a black-gloved hand reaching down to take hold of a small, red one.  A child's.  Another hand, half mechanical, reached to grasp the child's other hand.  Together, they lifted her up -- he knew somehow that it was a girl even though he couldn't see her face -- and swung her playfully in the space between them.  Her laughter echoed around them, pure and unrestrained by any knowledge of sadness or want.  She felt like the warmth he'd once had as a young boy.  Home.  Safety.  She was his.  She was _theirs_.  In his surprise, Kylo nearly lost concentration.  He'd never wanted children, never really even thought of it, but now it seemed like the most natural desire in the galaxy.  However long he basked in the glory of the shadowed brightness, hoping it would show him more, it wasn't enough.  It would never be enough.

After a while, a soft hum had begun to intrude on his bliss, so he followed it, turning his thoughts inward, then outward again in confusion.  It seemed to be coming from both places at once.  Frowning, he pulled himself back from the warm embrace of the crystal's energy to focus.  He shivered at the chill that passed through him.

Concurrent with the intensifying of the drone, Kylo's leg started to itch, then ache, then burn.  The sound clarified into a low groan, escalating into a horrified, tormented shriek as he pulled out of the trance and became more aware of his body.  He tried to push himself off the ground.  Pain ripped through his leg and his hands.  Kylo collapsed back to the floor, crying out. 

Luke was at his side in an instant. "Ben, what is it?"

"It's Hux! He's awake! He can feel it!" Kylo screamed, struggling against the phantom pain to right himself once more. "Tell them! Tell the surgeons! Please! You have to tell them to stop!"

Luke nodded, knowing that Ben's bond with his husband might have alerted him before the doctors had noticed anything amiss.  He dashed out the door, leaving his nephew to regain his control on his own. Time was of the essence, and he had to trust that Ben would be alright.

Kylo tried to connect with his earlier sense of relaxation and funnel a portion of it toward Hux to calm him, but he was too panicked himself to do much. *Hux! It- It's ok! I can hear you! Help is coming!*

A storm of the purest terror and agony Kylo had ever sensed whipped through Hux's mind.  Lightning flashes of fear, of being pulled apart, compounded by a profound sense of betrayal.  Unable to perceive reality through his paralysis and blindness, compensatory visions of what he'd experienced aboard the Finalizer surfaced; Hux believed he was still being tortured.

*Tage! You're in a hospital! It's ok! You're not there; you're in surgery! Something's gone wrong but the doctors will fix it! It'll be alright!*

Finally pulling himself to his feet, Kylo stumbled toward the door.

In his head, Hux didn't need to breathe. The scream didn't have to stop.

But then it did.

Everything did.


	8. Chapter 8

The world fell out from under him as though the entire planet were imploding.

Kylo's legs gave out again, but this time it had nothing to do with the pain. 

There was no more pain. 

Now, there was nothing but a bleak, unbearable void where a part of Hux's psyche once resided in the Force.  As deeply connected as they had been, when Hux's heart stopped, Kylo's had momentarily as well.  He collapsed, clutching his chest and gasping for breath.

The space between Hux's last heartbeat and the first, hard _thud_ of several attempts at restarting, encompassed every fear and every sorrow Kylo had ever experienced.  In that infinitesimal increment of time, every hope he'd ever held died and was reborn along with Hux.  The shock of even being able to feel that deeply toward another being astonished him.  Of course he loved his husband, but at times he’d wondered if they only stayed together because they were the only two who _could_ be together, given their similar ages, ranks, and Hux’s preoccupation with fraternization under military law.

Now he knew better.

Like two flames joined together, each still existing in whole and in part, without knowing where one began and the other ended.  They were the only two who could be together because _they were the only two who could be together_.

Having felt that aching emptiness of loss, even for a moment, he could finally admit to himself that Hux had been his one anchor in the darkness, in the loneliness of both the physical stretches of the Unknown Regions and the spiritual realm of Snoke's alienating domain.  Without Hux, Kylo realized, he'd have been lost to the Dark Side long ago.

 _I cannot lose him_.

Raw need surged through him, the desire to see Hux, _right now_ , taking over all other rational thought and providing him with the strength he needed to get moving. 

There was no one else here to help him.  The young nurse who’d been present earlier had gone.  He was on his own.  Kylo buried his pain down deep, as he’d done when Hux was being tortured, clawed his way to the door and scrambled to his feet.  He took off down the hallway and burst through the doors marked Authorized Personnel Only.

"Sir, you can't be in here!" a janitor shouted as he shot past, winding through corridors on instinct alone, following his tenuous link to his husband.

Another man, this one a doctor, tried to stop him as well, grabbing his arm and pulling him to a stop. "Sir, where do you think you're going? Family isn't allow—"

Kylo whirled on him, glaring, focusing hard on the man's awareness. His pent up fury speared straight through the older man's psyche. "You _will_ let me pass."

The doctor winced at the forceful mental intrusion, echoing, “I— I will let you pass." His hand fell away from Kylo's arm.

"Ben, over here," Luke called from around a corner, having sensed more than heard Ben's exchange with the doctor.

He raced onward, not paying another thought to the man, and skidded to a halt at the window to the operating theater as Luke held up a hand to stop him. "He's alright now. It's ok. Breathe." 

Behind the transparisteel, Doctors Ek-Tal and Borovia worked with a host of other surgeons, assistants, and interns to close up and get Hux back to the ICU as expediently as possible.  Hux's heartbeat was elevated but stable once more, pinging out steady beeps on the monitors.  Kylo exhaled in relief, satisfied that his husband's pain was also under control again, sunk to the depths under oceans of painkillers. 

The surreal sight of Hux's leg, bloodless and lifeless, laid out on a table off to the side, caught his attention.  Several fingers and toes lay beside it, paling as blood continued to seep from the clean plane of the cuts.  He found it difficult to reconcile that those bits of bisected, unmoving flesh had once been attached to his husband.  They looked like droid parts, or doll parts, waiting for reassembly. 

But they weren't going to be put back. 

Parts of Hux would be forever missing because of the cruelties he'd endured.  It wasn't fair.  He hadn't deserved such treatment, no matter how many lives he'd taken.

Glancing up, Dr. Borovia caught sight of them, had a brief exchange with Dr. Ek-Tal, and motioned for her assistants to finish suturing and binding Hux's hands.  She stripped off her bloodstained gloves and coverings as she exited, and, after washing up, reappeared at the entrance to the OR.  "Master Solo," she said, approaching them with a purposeful, but calm stride, "It appears your husband suffered cardiac arrest due to the presence of the pain-enhancing drugs still in his system.  We've managed to counter them, for now, but it is apparent that this will continue to be an issue with further surgeries. We'll be bringing him back to the ICU shortly, so he can rest while we confer over what is left to be done."

"Will he be ok?"

"I believe so. His heart was stopped for only a short time, but please understand that we won't know his neurological condition for certain until he wakes up.  For the time being, we intend to do everything we can to keep him sedated in order to better manage his pain and recovery."

Unable to find his voice again, his throat tight with anguish, Kylo nodded.

"Please, return to his room to wait. We will bring him in as soon as Dr. Ek-Tal closes up."

"But… what— what if he wakes up again?" Kylo croaked, "How will you know?"

"I'm afraid that, if he manages to achieve consciousness through the massive doses of anesthesia we've just given him, there is nothing else we _could_ do. Give him any more and we could kill him ourselves. We've also given him amnesics to ensure he won't remember this episode when he wakes."

Though Kylo appreciated the truth, it certainly didn't do anything to alleviate his rising anxiety.

"Please, he— he still believes he's being tortured. Please, let me stay. At least I could try to talk to him, keep him calm."

The doctor turned back to observe his colleague's progress, considering.  The Verpine was just fitting the alusteel bio-interface cap onto Hux's thigh; even without attaching the prosthetics themselves, it would be almost half an hour before they would finish.  "Alright. You may stay out here for now. But do not enter the surgical theater without receiving permission, scrubbing in, and wearing proper coverage. Please understand; he's in too delicate of a condition and we must eliminate all possible contamination vectors. We cannot have you rushing in. Knock on the window if you anticipate trouble."

Kylo nodded, relieved and breathing easier now that he felt he could be of use. "Thank you, doctor."

"You are welcome." She smiled, moved by the level of his devotion, but also worried that it might drive him to break protocol further. Her expression hardened again. "Do not make me regret this decision."

"I won't."

She looked him in the eyes for a moment longer to drive her seriousness home, then nodded and departed.

After she'd gone, Kylo stared at the grisly procedure before him, numb and exhausted by all that had transpired.  The shiny, chromed fitting where Hux's leg now terminated reminded him of Phasma's armor.  The thought made him wonder, _Where was Phasma_ _through all of this?_

She and the general had their differences when it came to command styles, but she was a loyal confidant for Hux, and even for Kylo at times.  Surely, she wouldn't have had anything to do with this, orders from Snoke or not. Had she been executed? Imprisoned for defiance? Likewise, Kylo couldn't imagine any of Hux's bridge crew turning against him.  They trusted him implicitly; though, he supposed, after the loss of Starkiller Base that could have changed.  He also wondered whether his knights would remain loyal to him.  At some later point, when Hux was in less danger, he would have to try to contact them through a secure channel to find out what was going on with Snoke and the Killiks, and more importantly, where their true loyalties lie.

Dr. Ek-Tal and their team finished without further complications, leaving what looked to be temporary metal mesh sleeves over the shiny caps on Hux's leg, hand, and foot.  The transfer team took over after the doctors had cleared out, and Kylo once more called on the powers at his disposal to move Hux onto the hoverbed that would be used to return him to the ICU suite.

All the way back, Kylo kept a hand resting lightly on Hux's head, concentrating and watching him for the slightest sign of distress.  He felt warm but not as feverish as he had been.  His color had even returned a little.  Anxiety still had too much of a stranglehold on Kylo's heart for him to trust this as a good sign just yet.

Luke accompanied Kylo to the room.  Before entering, they stopped to sanitize themselves, Kylo showing his uncle what to do.  Kylo found himself grateful for his uncle's calming presence, but he also wondered where his mother had been all day.

Anticipating his question, Luke waited until Hux was settled once more and the nurses were tending to his needs. *Leia went home to debrief the others.  She may not be back until tomorrow, so I'll stay if you need me.*

Now that everything seemed to be under control, Kylo noticed how lightheaded he was and how weak his knees suddenly felt.  Consulting the chrono on the monitors, he saw that the surgery had actually taken almost 9 hours.  He dropped onto the bed like a stone, the weight of what had just transpired finally hitting him now that the initial panic had subsided.  All his limbs felt heavy and unresponsive, and he couldn't stop shaking.

*Yes. Please.*

Luke sat down beside Ben, trying to rub some feeling into his back and shoulders.  *Have you eaten at all since you've been here?*

Kylo blinked through tears, trying to remember anything past the last hour.  He couldn't see anything in his mind beyond the image of those dismembered parts laid aside on the operating room tray, and the intense distress he felt at nearly losing his husband.  *No, I... I don't think I have.*

*I'll go get you something.* Luke pulled a spare blanket over Ben’s shoulders as he stood up to go. *Lie down and focus on your breathing.  Everything will be alright.  I'll be right back.*

Kylo nodded and sunk into the mattress.  *Thank you,* he responded automatically, though there was no feeling in it beyond a temporarily restrained panic.  He did as his uncle said, pulling in slow, deep breaths and trying not to think of the fact that he'd nearly... no, that he _had_ just lost his husband.  Hux's heart had actually stopped beating, even if only for a minute.

And even worse: the thought that Hux might have wanted it to stay that way.

Watching his internal struggle play out over his exaggerated features, one of the day nurses came over after she'd finished her duties to ask if he needed anything.  Kylo appreciated her attentiveness, but couldn't bring himself to speak.  He shook his head no and tried to smile but was certain the grimace he'd given her was far from genuine.  Nonetheless, she smiled back, understanding. "If you need anything, just ask. We'll be happy to help."

"Just... help him," he managed. "I'll be ok."

"I know this must be hard for you. Try to take it easy. At least one of us will be in here at all times until the night shift clocks out tomorrow. We'll want to keep a close eye on his recovery, and we'll be ready in case anything goes wrong. He’s in good hands. There's no need to worry."

Kylo nodded and stared up at the ceiling, trying to tell himself the same thing.


	9. Chapter 9

Sitting on the edge of the bed beside his uncle, Kylo couldn't help but feel an irrational surge of contempt for the plate of noodles, vegetables, and sweet meats he had been ponderously chewing his way through for the last hour.  It was savory and tangy and delicious, and he hated it.

It wasn't right that he should be sitting here, enjoying a meal while his husband lay miserable and dying less than a meter away.  Hux couldn't eat; why should he? Even though he knew it was a ridiculous thought, nothing more than displaced guilt, Kylo couldn't stop feeling ashamed for accepting even the smallest of pleasures right now.  Even when the shift changed and the night nurse, the young woman from the chapel, came in to express her sympathy and ask him if he was holding up alright, it only inspired more self-loathing in him.  Why should anyone care about _him_ at a time like this?

He mumbled something about being fine, but later wondered if Hux could smell the aromatic sauce, or if the deep coma they'd placed him in had left him bereft of any and all sensations. He glanced over at the nurse’s nametag -- _Emlii Tarkin… Tarkin? The same?_ \-- intending to ask her, but she noticed his surprise and laughed a quiet, easy-going laugh.

“Yes,” she nodded, smiling and preempting the question that Kylo imagined everyone must have asked her a thousand times, “that Tarkin.” She waited.

 _Hmm.  Interesting.  Another question for another time_.  “Do you think this is bothering him?” Kylo motioned to his plate, “He must be so hungry.”

“Hard to say. He might be able to smell it a little bit, but he’s breathing entirely through the endotracheal tube, not his nose.  He’s also being fed through the nasogastric tube...” She swiped her hand over one of the viewscreens and looked over his charts.  “Looks like they started up his intake again almost as soon as he was back in the room, so I doubt he’s feeling hungry.  Also, he’s been put under pretty deeply; he’s probably not aware of very much right now.”

Nonetheless, once Kylo had finished his meal and gathered his strength again, he washed up, donned his sterile coverings, then moved to sit beside his husband.  Careful to exert only the softest of pressures as he stroked his head, his cheek, his shoulder -- anywhere that wasn't bruised or too sensitive, or invaded by medical equipment of some kind -- he whispered soothing words and promises to him, alternating between his physical voice and his mental one.

Part of him felt as though his selfish need to touch Hux was taking advantage of Hux’s unconsciousness, when he knew that Hux would likely panic if he were coherent.  At the same time, he wanted Hux to feel safe and comfortable, and hopefully calmed by his presence. _And once he’s awake, it may be a very long time before I’m able to touch him again, if ever…_ He traced his fingertips around the shell of Hux’s ear and down his jaw to the places his ministrations had quelled his husband’s anxiety before. 

The brace holding Hux’s neck straight and his head tilted slightly upward looked uncomfortable, but Kylo refrained from moving it in any way.  Having had his head twisted to the side for so long had damaged Hux’s spine, and the fracture in his jaw was also being supported by preventing his mouth from opening too widely.  As Kylo’s gloved fingers brushed over the fine hairs between the rise of his ear and where his sideburns had been, he noticed Hux’s heartrate decreasing ever so slightly. 

Convinced Hux had felt and heard him, Kylo allowed himself a tiny smile and leaned closer, barely breathing, “That’s it, love. Relax. You’re safe here. I’m here with you. I won’t leave you; I promise.”

Luke remained silent, out of respect for their privacy, though it pleased him to know that such tenderness still existed in his nephew.  It had always been there, he knew, buried under layers of protective disdain and reckless displays of power.  Ben was not as lost as he imagined himself to be.

Emlii, who continued to alternate her watchful gaze between her patient and the complex readouts on the monitors, smiled again.  “I think he can hear you. Keep talking to him.”

Kylo blushed at the realization that he’d been heard, having forgotten that anyone else was even there, but kept going anyway, his only thought the alleviation of even a minuscule part of Hux’s fear or pain. He ran his fingers up to the top of Hux’s head.  A fine, orange stubble had begun to bud under the skin there, like a dusting of Arallute pollen.  Kylo stroked his hand over it, careful to avoid the cuts and scabbed over patches where his hair had been ripped out by his tormenters.

Frowning at that memory, Kylo persevered, “You’re in a hospital now.  You’re safe.  Everyone here is taking really good care of you.  You’re gonna be alright.  I know you probably don’t believe that, but it’s true.  It’ll take time, but we’ll get through this.  I swear it.”

After a while, Kylo noticed a single tear escape and roll down Hux’s cheek.  He’d made no sound, and no movement: nothing to indicate that he was awake at all, but the bandage covering his eyes glistened with moisture.  Kylo froze, worrying that his attentions had woken Hux from his uneasy sleep, but neither a quick scan of his feelings, nor a glance at the readouts on the screens indicated that he was in any pain.

There was only fear.  So much fear.  And under all of it, obscured by the cascade of terror, the weakest flutter of hope every time he heard Kylo's voice.

Kylo’s lip trembled as he struggled against the tightness in his throat and his own forming tears.  Snatching up a clean cloth from the bedside, he dabbed at the wetness on Hux’s sunken cheek and leaned closer. “Oh, Tage…” his voice caught on a shuddering breath. “Please, don’t be afraid. I love you. You’re safe. I'm here. I won't let anyone hurt you.” 

Emlii swiped at her own eyes, surprised that his pleas had affected her. She'd seen so much death and tragedy working in the ICU that it had unavoidably become just another routine part of her day.  On top of that, her patient was a heinous war criminal -- though word in the halls was that he'd possibly come here to defect, and given the palpable force of love that exuded from this Jedi who was somehow his husband, she suspected it might be true.  She knew something about having to deal with being associated with the deaths of billions.  The Tarkin clan was large, but only one of them would ever be remembered in the endless march of galactic history no matter how much good she did to try to balance the scales.  She could be thankful, now, that at least she was not a Hux.

She gave them as much time as she could before stepping over to check on her patient.  "Sorry to interrupt, but I need to turn him.  I heard you could help with that?"

"Turn him?” Kylo sniffled, “Why?"

"He's going to be spending a lot of time in bed, so the stress on the wounds on his back and other pressure points needs to be balanced, or he could develop bed sores and further infections."

“I see.”  Kylo watched her lower the head of the bed until Hux was lying flat.  She continued to explain what she was doing, as much for Kylo's benefit as her patient's, assuming he could hear her.  "Because we're moving him, I'm going to siphon off the remainder of the food in his stomach.  He shouldn't be able to vomit, in this state, but I don't want to take any chances.  We'll turn the feeding back on in a few hours when we let him sit up again; we do need to get as many nutrients in him as possible so he can heal faster.  If you'll raise him up a little bit, I'll put these pillows under him so he can lie on his side for a while."

"Now?"

She folded the sheets back to be sure all of his support lines were visible, then nodded. "Go ahead."

"Tage, I'm gonna lift you up now. It's just me. Don't worry. I won't hurt you," Kylo whispered, hoping that last bit would hold true as Hux began to rise from the bed little by little.

Luke paused in his meditation and opened his eyes, assessing his nephew's strength and control.  Despite his obvious distress, he moved Hux and kept him still without even seeming to concentrate very hard.  Impressed, Luke smiled to himself and closed his eyes again, knowing his assistance wouldn’t be needed.

Emlii waited until he was up high enough and asked, "Cold you hold him there a bit longer? I can check the bandages on his back more easily this way."

"Sure. However long you need." He reached up to stroke Hux's head, whispering, "Just a little longer, love."

As she looked over the gelled strips, making sure they were smooth and clean, she smiled. "Did someone teach you to do that?"

"What? This?" Kylo gestured to Hux's floating form.

"No. I mean, telling him what you're going to do before you do it. That's something we’re trained to do. It helps keep patients calm."

"Oh, no,” he shrugged, “It just seemed like I should."

"I guess being a Jedi just makes you more empathetic." She set the pillows under Hux and patted down the wrinkles.  "You can set him down now."

Kylo didn't reply to her comment about being a Jedi.  He hoped she didn't notice him averting his eyes in shame, and tried to cover it by closing them in concentration instead.  Setting Hux down, he felt a slight twitch of pain from his husband, even though he'd been as gentle as possible.  His heart rate jumped up a notch as well.

She did notice his frown. "Is everything ok?"

"This isn't very comfortable for him; it seems to be causing him a little pain."

"Can you tell where?"

Kylo focused, but couldn't find any particular spot that hurt him more than anything else. He stroked his fingers down Hux's jawline a few times and it seemed to have a calming effect. "No. I think it's just... in general."

"Hmm." She watched the monitors for a while and pressed her fingers to his neck to double-check his pulse, "Does it seem like he can tolerate it? He's going to be in some pain no matter what we do, and I worry that if we keep adjusting him we might just make it worse."

"Yeah," Kylo's voice sounded dreamy and distant as he tried to keep hold of the brief connection to Hux's consciousness, though his expression was pained, "He's already fading out again. I think it'll be ok." He hated to leave him in any pain, but the nurse was right; some of it couldn't be avoided.  Better to save their efforts for when it was really bothering him, especially since he was close to being maxed out on medications.

She continued to check him from head to toe. Kylo watched, fascinated and hoping he could pick up some of what she was doing in order to be more useful. He sensed a bit of nervousness and uncertainty from her the longer he stared. "Sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?"

Emlii looked up from her inspection of Hux's flank. "Hmm? No." She hid her surprise well. "I'm used to it. I'm just wondering—"

"—what kind of pain in the ass I'll be?" Kylo's lip curled into a playful, lopsided smile.

"Well... You're not wrong," she chuckled. "Do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

He asked and she said at the same time: "Read people’s thoughts?"

Their grins both grew. "Yeah. I probably shouldn't," Kylo cast a glance toward his meditating uncle. "It sort of comes naturally, though. Anyway, sorry. It's just... draining, sitting here with little to do but worry. I don’t know what to do with myself."

"You want to feel useful."

"Yeah," he chuckled, embarrassed and unused to people other than Snoke or Hux being so intuitive about him.

"I'm glad that you do want to be involved. It _is_ really boring here sometimes when there's nothing going on...” After a while, she said, more than asked, “You want to know what I'm doing."

"I do." Kylo smiled and listened as she narrated all of the things that she had to check through: a full-body assessment every 4 hours, which meant getting physical, hands-on confirmation of the readouts on the monitors, checking pulse, blood-pressure, listening to be sure his heartbeat was regular and his lungs were clear, suctioning the breathing tube when it was congested, measuring and recording all fluid intakes and outputs, seeing that all the equipment and tubing were unobstructed and functioning properly, administering medications and food, and making sure all his bandages were clean and snug or changing them as needed.  He couldn't say he understood all the specifics, but her candor helped to relieve some of his worry, and she did an excellent job of explaining the more technical aspects in layman's terms without condescending or patronizing.

When it came to what he could do, she demonstrated the basics of oral care and hygiene management and then stood aside to let him try it while she watched, making small corrections here and there.  Kylo wondered if she were a teacher; she would make a fine one, he thought.

"Once he's awake we'll still have to do all of that, but it will be harder because he’ll be confused and afraid when he comes off the sedatives, and that's where warning him and narrating what you have to do, and moving very slowly, come in." She hesitated for a moment, but continued, knowing that he could probably hear her thoughts anyway, if he wanted to, "I was here when they brought him in, and I've read over his file… He’s been through a lot.”

A certain curiosity hung at the end of her statement.  She’d seen the extent of Hux’s injuries first-hand, but didn’t seem to know how they’d come about.  She suspected foul-play, based on what she knew, but was too polite to ask.  Kylo took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, surprised that he could talk about it without the anger that usually accompanied those thoughts.  He was too exhausted, or worse, he feared he was becoming numb to the reality of it.  “Supr— Snoke, he’s the leader of the First Order, ordered for him to be tortured.  Somehow he knew that we were together, even though we did our best to hide it.  He… wanted me to feel it, so that I would come to him.” He hugged himself at the shudder of guilt that passed through him. “It went on for almost two weeks before I could get to Hux.  They didn’t… They didn’t let up for a moment during that time, but Hux didn’t want me to come for him.  He knew it was a trap.  He was so brave.  I still… I can’t believe this is really… that they did this to him.” Kylo’s gaze rested on the flat expanse of the sheets where Hux’s leg should have been.

 _Tortured! By his own people!_ Emlii’s hand went to the mask over her mouth. _And his husband could feel it, too!_ Overcome with sympathy for them, she regretted having allowed her curiosity get the better of her.  Of course, the nature of his injuries and their different healing rates, and the nastiness of the drugs in his system had suggested torture, but having grown up without the prevalence of war, she hadn’t really wanted to think that people could be that cruel.  She had hoped it was something like a catastrophic shuttle crash that had caused most of his wounds.  _Perhaps as two star-crossed lovers fled their pursuers, whether First Order or Resistance…_ she hadn’t really thought about it much past that, but some of the other nurses had invented a whole story about the young Jedi infiltrator sent to track down those who’d slaughtered his friends, but ended up falling in love with the handsome general he’d been meant to capture.

Hoping it was a similar but happier story, she changed the topic. “I can see how much you love him, but... you’re a Jedi. How did you two meet?”

Luke did not open his eyes, though he was tempted. He didn’t have to. Ben’s discomfort could be felt, burning like the noontime Tatooine suns, as he struggled for a lie that would protect him and keep his identity as Kylo Ren safe.

Kylo knew he’d have to lie at some point, but he hadn’t been prepared to do it so soon.  In all the stress of everything that had transpired, he hadn’t thought of a cover story at all.  He’d never really needed to hide his identity before.  Kylo Ren wasn’t a cover for Ben Solo.  Ben Solo was dead.  He’d _wanted_ people to know that it was Kylo Ren come to herald their doom.  Hux was the one who was good at making up this sort of thing on the fly, but Hux wasn’t awake to help him now. 

He didn’t sense any malice in this young nurse, as he had in some others; her innocent question hadn’t been meant to trap him or even hurt him.  Though Kylo caught a snippet of the story she’d concocted for them in a fleeting thought, he didn’t go along with it.  Surprising his uncle (and himself), he stuck to as much of the truth as he could.

“When I was a kid, my mother used to drag me to all these boring political meetings.  There was rarely anyone my age around –- I was about 12 at the time -– aside from some of the interns and senators’ aides.  I hated being there, so I used to amuse myself by reading the minds of the senators and delegates who came to talk, or argue, with her.  Usually, mother frowned upon my clandestine mental activities, but this time… this was a ‘special occasion’, ‘very important’ she said.  An envoy from the First Order had come to meet with a panel of the most respected, senior senators to apply for representation within the Senate, and she wanted to know everything everyone in the room was feeling and thinking, including the Republic senators.” Kylo frowned, lost in thought and leaving his emotions unguarded.  “I was annoyed that she had asked –- I’d gotten in serious trouble for doing this before, and the hypocrisy of it all didn’t sit well with me -- but I was also eager to be able to test out the limits of my powers and do something to help her out.  Anyway, when the delegation showed up, there was this boy -– he looked so young, and so handsome,” a wisp of a smile tugged at his lips at the memory, his gaze becoming distant and unfocused. “He was a freshly minted officer from the looks of his uniform, and the stiff way he wore it.  Though, later I found out that was just the way he was… Anyway, the ambassadors were all very professional –- standoffish and haughty, and suspicious and disdainful of us, as was to be expected –- they weren’t happy to be there, but nothing underhanded was going on, so I lost interest.  But mother said she wanted to know what _everyone_ was thinking, and sometimes it’s the intern you overlook who’s actually the ruler of the system in disguise, so I turned my attention to the boy.  And this boy, he was so filled with this… this overwhelming, fanatical _hate_.  And under all of that hate, envy and anger at everything that we had, and absolute terror at being there, trapped in the den of the enemy.  But his face, his expression… it was completely calm, almost blank, even, to the point I thought I _must_ have been sensing the wrong person.  I was _fascinated_.  I had to know how someone could feel so much and yet hide it so well.  I completely forgot about all the others,” he chuckled. “I tried to go deeper, to see why in the stars he would hate us so much without ever having been here or ever meeting us before, but when I did he looked right at me as if he knew it was me that was in his head.  I was… stunned. No one had ever done that to me before.  I didn’t think it was a coincidence either, because something in his eyes changed when he saw me, and he didn’t look away for some time.”

Emlii looked up from wrapping fresh bandages around the burns on Hux’s leg.  “And you fell in love with him… even though he hated you? Did you, like, talk it out later or something?”

Kylo laughed, “No. I mean, I was attracted to him, even then, but love… no. That came much later… I didn’t speak to him at all back then.  I thought about him a lot, but I never even saw him again until about 5 years ago.”

"Oh," she said, wondering if she'd been right about her theory of daring spy work and clandestine trysts.

She didn't get a chance to ask.

 


	10. Chapter 10

The Republic supply officer made her way through the public landing pads in haste, casting a nervous glance toward the protesters and news broadcasters who had encamped along the far side of the lot.  They had quieted down for the moment; as late as it was, most of them were sleeping. There were few night visitors to the hospital for them to harangue, so they'd turned to their evening meals and begun resting up to rise early for the next morning.  She avoided making eye contact with the few who watched her passing with interest.

Some of their HoloSigns remained on, thrust into the ground, casting their hateful hues upon the surrounding tents and landspeeders. Lydia averted her eyes and pulled her flight jacket closer at the chill those messages sent through her, particularly the ones calling for violence and death.  Lacking a large-scale military target on which to unleash their anger, her people had gone mad with a terrifying (albeit understandable) desire for revenge.  But that was not justice.  That was not what she had fought for.

Shaking her head, she realized she'd forgotten to take her helmet off. She was so used to borrowing her husband's A-Wing that the weight of the armored helmet felt as natural to her as the mess of hair pinned up under it. Security tensed up at her approach.

"State your business."

"Family visitor," she said, unlatching her chinstrap and shaking the long, wavy falls of her hair free.  Lydia hoped her nervousness would not be apparent.

The two young soldiers relaxed after a quick visual as well as technological scan of her rank pin and face. "Please proceed directly to the visitor check-in desk, sir."

"Understood. Carry on, Specialists."

No matter how many times she'd been here, the interior of the hospital always surprised her with its brightness.  She rubbed at her eyes as they teared up, and told herself that it was definitely only the harshness of the lights and not at all the anxiety and fear building up inside of her.

Briefly, Lydia considered bypassing the admissions desk and just heading straight for her destination -– the kind of bluff she’d pulled off before -- but a quick scan of the reception area revealed armed guards at the entrance of each corridor, and her confidence faltered.

"Good evening," the receptionist regarded her with a friendly smile, but Lydia could see the tension and suspicion in his eyes. "I'm sorry, but visiting hours are over. Is there something else I can help you with?"

"I'm family of a critical care patient."

"Oh, in that case, may I have your name, please?"

"Lydia Vitaan."

"Is that V-I-T-A-N?"

"Double aurek."

"Thank you. Sorry about that," the young man frowned as he tapped away at his console. "I'm sorry, you're not registered here, may I have the patient's name?"

Lydia took a deep breath and said with as much self-assurance as she could muster, "Armitage Hux."

She saw the receptionist's eyes widen a fraction, and his gaze darted around the room, likely searching for the nearest security personnel. "I'm… sorry, ma'am; there isn't a patient by that name here."

"And you know that without even checking your register?" she raised an eyebrow.

The young man straightened up, irritated that she'd been so observant. His voice stiffened along with his posture. "Ma'am, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"I will not leave. I am his mother, and I have a right to visit my son."

"Yeah, nice try lady. Like I haven't already heard that one before," the receptionist waved over a pair of guards. "You need to leave, now, before you're removed."

"You touch me and I'll see you both in the brig,” she snapped at the two approaching soldiers, “Scan me if you don't believe me."

Despite the threat, the soldiers moved to either side of her and seized her arms, exerting little effort to lift her and drag her away.

"Let go of me! You can't do this!" she shouted and struggled in their grip.

"Is there a problem here?" a terse and blessedly familiar voice sounded behind her.

"General Organa," the two guards straightened up at her approach, still dangling Lydia between them. “There’s been another attempt to access unauthorized areas.”

Leia's eyes flicked from the sergeant to the familiar red cascades of hair and icy, yet fiery, eyes of the woman being restrained. Surprise colored her response, "Lydia?"

"Leia! Please, help me! They won't let me see him!"

"Ok…” Leia responded, confused. “It's alright, let her go. I’ll handle this." Leia said to the guards, reaching out to take her friend by the shoulders as they did what she said and backed away.

Lydia had been a trusted and integral connection between the Republic military and the Resistance ever since the latter's formation. Furthermore, she'd been a fast friend ever since the conclusion of the Outer Rim sieges almost 30 years ago.  The advice and small gifts (small in nature, though boundless in generosity, considering Lydia’s predicament at the time) she'd given Leia during her pregnancy had been invaluable.  A dark dread settled over Leia as unwanted connections began to form.  _Arkanis_... _that hair, those eyes... her missing little boy..._ Leia tensed as she asked the question she didn't really want to hear the answer to, but she had to know.

"Who are you trying to see?"

The fear and shame in Lydia's eyes as she confessed -- expecting to lose her friend, her rank, and possibly her life -- sparked a sympathy in Leia she'd thought herself incapable of.

"Armie. My son... Hux. General Hux."  She collapsed into Leia's embrace, sobbing.

 _General Hux has a mother_... Leia frowned at the absurdity of the thought. Of course he had a mother, somewhere, but it wasn't something Leia had wanted to think about.  Her frown deepened as she considered why that was: if he had a mother, then that made him… _human_.

Leia held her friend and let her cry it out, gently guiding her toward a more private hallway and away from the curious stares of the few beings waiting in the public area. She understood that terror, that feeling of everything you'd lived for slipping away with every scandalous whisper tying you to a murderer that the entire galaxy hated and feared. She'd already had her own life ripped apart by association with her father, and the likelihood of having to face that again with her own son brought forth a surge of empathy so intense it brought tears to her eyes as well.  Lydia was a good woman.  A loyal friend and ferocious soldier to the cause.  Warmhearted and kind-spirited.  She was nothing like her son.  She didn't deserve to bear the weight of the tragedy that continued to unfold around her.  And Leia would be damned if she let the same thing happen to her friend that had happened to her.

"It's alright," Leia soothed, "I'll help you in any way I can."

Lydia pulled away from her and looked at her, eyes wide like prey caught in a hunter's sights. "Y-you will?"

"Of course I will," Leia smiled tightly and sniffled, smoothing back her friend's disheveled bangs.

"I thought you— you would h-hate me."

"No, no.  Lydia, I know you. I know that, whatever your son has done, it's no reflection on you." And she did know. She knew that all too well. At least, she hoped she did. "Do you want to see him?"

Lydia hesitated.  Leia recognized that fear, too.

"Y-yes. Please."

“Ok. Let me speak to them, I’ll clear this up.”

Leia straightened her back, assuming her usual air of authority, and marched off to the check-in desk.  Lydia felt the stares of the guards on her but paid them no mind.  She was in too much shock over the ease with which Leia agreed to help her.  _After Alderaan…_ Lydia had feared that Leia would have her locked up as a spy and traitor alongside Armitage.  Even though she’d known Leia for decades, she couldn’t quite believe her friend’s generosity of spirit.  The woman gave and gave and gave so much of herself… and someday there wouldn’t be anything left.

The general returned with an exasperated sigh and an eyeroll that set Lydia at ease with its frankness.  She almost smiled.

“There’s a two visitor limit, and it seems my brother is in there at the moment, along with my son, but I’m sure they'll leave so you can visit in private, if you wish.”

 _Her son…?_ Lydia, like everyone else, thought Leia’s son had died in the Jedi massacre. “Thank you,” was all she could manage, still overwhelmed that this was going as well as it was and knowing this wasn’t exactly the best time to bring up Leia's own tortured past. 

Leia nodded and led the way down several halls and turbolifts to the secluded ICU wing, where they went through the sanitization procedures before approaching Armitage’s room. Along the way she warned her friend that Hux would likely be in no condition to speak, or even be conscious, but no words could have prepared Lydia for the sight of him. 

Her little boy, all grown up.

So frail and broken.

She took a shuddering breath and her hands went to her face on instinct, as if to shield her from the painful sight.  But she couldn’t turn back now.

Inside, Kylo sat chatting with Emlii as she checked and changed out Hux’s bandages.  They both looked up in surprise.  Kylo had the additional shock of confusion over the sudden outpouring of grief he'd sensed nearby, and wondered who in the galaxy could have felt as deeply for the man he loved as he did.  His own mother’s emotions were equally as puzzling, but Leia shut him out the instant she felt his presence hovering around her thoughts.  That hurt, but he was too preoccupied by this stranger who loved his husband to pay it any mind.

Luke got up and went to the door, whispering something to Leia, who motioned for her son to join them as well.  Kylo rose reluctantly, keeping one hand on Hux’s arm, his fingers just brushing the skin.  Luke exchanged places with the woman, and it was then that Kylo noticed the red hair.  Though it was streaked through with silver, the hue was unmistakable.  He stared in complete disbelief.

“Are you—”

“His mother,” she whispered, as though saying the words would force this horrifying scene to become less real -- a magical incantation that would transport them back to a simpler time.  All she could see when she looked at her son was the sweet, scared child who would sneak out to pick wildflowers for her and then scurry into the kitchens to get cleaned up before his father caught him in his muddy, disheveled state.  Those visions of grass-stained knees resolved into the frightening realization that he now had only one. “What… what happened to… him?”

She reached out a trembling hand but pulled it back, afraid she would shatter his delicate skin like a piece of elegant crystal dropped hard against stone.  Lydia made a soft noise, a hiccup of anguish and repressed anger.  Taking her hand, Kylo led her to the chair he’d pulled up beside the bed and let her sit down.  The fury he’d sensed wasn’t directed toward Hux, but toward whoever had left him in this state, and one person in particular:  Hux's father.

“Oh, _ah’stor_ , what did that monster do to you?”

Emlii brought Kylo an extra chair and stepped to the back of the room for a moment to let them have some space. 

For a while, Lydia only cried and hid her face, every fleeting, upward glance driving home the harsh truth of the scene before her and eliciting a new waterfall of tears.  Twice, already, she thought she’d lost him, and now she stood to lose him for a final time. 

Kylo didn’t know this woman at all, but it felt right to put his arm around her, so he did.  She turned and sobbed into his broad chest, and Kylo wondered if his own mother had cried like this when she’d learned of the horrible things he’d done.  He glanced over his shoulder toward the window, but she and Luke had already moved off elsewhere.  When he turned back, Lydia was already trying to dry up, sniffling into a handkerchief and dabbing at her eyes.  She gave Kylo a puzzled frown.

“Who… who are you? I- I mean, to him? When I came in you were touching him, like you know him. Like you were protecting him. Why?”

Kylo’s wide mouth curled into a smile at the first, truly happy memory he’d had in a long time: _Armitage, rigid and serious as always, but inside bursting with nervous energy bordering on actual happiness. Outside, looking so incredibly handsome in his formal, white dress uniform, the gilded lines of which accentuated his slight, but beautiful athletic frame. His eyes glossy with unshed tears and a swell of joy as Kylo slid the ring onto his finger. Perfection._

“I’m his husband.”


	11. Chapter 11

“He’s married…” Lydia smiled through her tears.  It felt good to know that Armitage hadn’t been as lonely as she’d assumed, but she was sad all the same that she hadn’t been there to see what must have been one of the few happy moments in his life.  “Was it… what was it like?”

Kylo smiled, pleased to live inside that memory a little longer. He closed his eyes to clarify the image.  “It was very private. Just us and the captain of the guard to perform the ceremony, and his XO to be the ring-bearer and witness. Tage was so nervous, always such a perfectionist. I told him not to worry about it; no one else was going to see it or even know that we’d done it.  It had to be a secret, but it was _our_ secret, something just for _us_ , and that meant a lot.  It wasn’t anything fancy, just a short ceremony where we exchanged our vows and rings and went back to our duties, but he was so beautiful.  Of course, he had to show me up by wearing his best uniform.  I’d never even seen that one before.  All white and gold, with a blood red sash, and black boots so shiny I thought they were made from the starry expanse itself.”

 _Tage…_ she smiled at the nickname, feeling a swell of melancholy joy at Ben’s description.  _He really does love him.  Someone good and kind loves my son despite the terrible things he's been made to do._

Kylo breathed in, ignoring the astringent sting of the salves and cleaning agents, and focused on his memories. “He smelled like dewflowers under the morning sun. Tage never uses scented soaps like that… only for very special occasions.  It lasted for weeks, and I couldn’t stop smelling his hair.  Every time I passed by him I wanted to just stick my nose in his hair and take a big breath… but I had to keep it to myself of course.  I wonder if anyone else ever noticed the scent?” he trailed off in thought for a moment.  “I guess we weren’t as careful as we imagined.”

He sighed and opened his eyes to the mechanical rise and fall of Hux’s chest.  "He's always been so afraid that I would leave him," Kylo's thumb went to his ring finger, tracing the edges of his wedding band, "and I wanted to show him how much he meant to me, that I would never leave him." Guilt soured his mood. "But… I did leave him.  He told me not to come for him... It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do.  It's all my fault he's— he's—"

"What happened? I thought he was their leader. Why did they do these awful things to him?"

"He was. Starkiller Base was his life's work. When it imploded, Snoke used its destruction as an excuse to have him tortured, to... to bring me to him after he found out we were together, that we were bound in the Force.  Snoke wants me for my power. He—” Kylo took a trembling breath. No matter how many times he told this or had it play through his head, he still couldn’t forgive himself, even though he knew he’d done what he had to do. “Snoke wanted me to feel it.  His pain… It was a trap, for me, but Tage knew it.  Warned me to s-stay away.  He saved my life on Starkiller Base, and I'd hoped to return the favor.” Kylo snorted in derision and self-loathing. “We wanted to move against Snoke when he least expected it, so I left to get Luke's and my sister’s aid. Tage thought he would be alright. He said that Snoke had already foreseen the base's destruction, that it wasn't a problem. They would move on Chandrila and demand surrender and it would all be over. He seemed... so _sure_. So I left him there. Oh, stars, I never should have left him... I-it was _so foolish_. I…"

Lydia’s brow pinched into an anguished frown. For a moment, she wondered if Ben could have somehow saved her son from this senseless mutilation.  Her fists shook in her lap.  She wanted to blame him, but she knew she was just seeking an outlet for her frustration.  There was nothing he could have done in the face of such evil.  In the crackling aura around him, she sensed the same turmoil.  His presence in the Force glowed red with self-loathing and the black static of anger and fear.  Under that, though, a brilliant and pure white flared from within.  “You love him, deeply, I can tell.  I’m sure you would never hurt him intentionally.”

“No, never! Of course not. I—” He sniffled and exhaled forcefully, hissing through clenched teeth, “I’m so sorry. Tage, I’m so sorry!” Kylo turned to place a hand on Hux’s face and stopped, his breath hitching as he stilled for a moment.  “He’s so warm. He’s burning up,” he whispered. 

Lydia’s hand moved to Hux’s shoulder, his side, his arm; eyes widening, “But so cold, too!” She reached out to pull the blanket up over the thinner sheet that covered her son, just as Emlii rounded the corner of the bed, startling them both.  They’d all but forgotten she was there, quiet as she was and lost as they were in emotion.  The nurse’s face looked grim.  She felt Hux’s abdomen, his arms, and his forehead, then reached up to adjust some of the drip settings on the IV lines.

“Is he ok?” Kylo asked, trying to get a feel for what lay hidden under her calm expression.  There was concern there, but it had not yet escalated to alarm.

“He may be going into septic shock.  I’m going to hang more fluids and com Dr. Kalonia.”

One of the monitors let out a low, but persistent series of beeps, making Kylo and Lydia jump again. Emlii took it in stride, adjusting the titrations of certain drips with one hand while silencing the alarm with her other.

The door slid open and Anan stepped in. “Everything under control in here?”

“Slight drop in blood pressure, and increase in core temperature differential. I’ve increased the rate of his fluid intake to compensate.”

“Good. You need another fluid bolus? I’ll get the doc and bring it,” Anan said and, at her nod of agreement, disappeared once more down the hallway.

Lydia’s increasing fear interfered with Kylo’s ability to get a sense of the two nurses’ emotional states, but so far no one was panicking.  He hoped he could maintain as relaxed a demeanor as they had, for Lydia’s sake.  Kylo tamped down his shame and sadness to keep his expression serene and took her hand, both for his and her comfort. “Do you need us to move?”

“No. You’re ok for now. But if this doesn’t resolve in a few hours, it’s going to get crowded in here.  You may be asked to leave, or at least move over here to be out of the way.” She motioned to the spare bed.

Lydia’s voice quavered, “Septic shock. That sounds… bad.”

“It is,” Emlii said, not mincing words. “It’s a very serious condition.  But we’ve also been expecting this, given his infections, so we’re well prepared to deal with it.”

“Is there anything we can do?”

“I’m afraid not. Just stay calm and keep talking to him; just hearing the voices of friends and family can help sometimes." Emlii explained as she continued working, "Actually, if you wouldn’t mind doing something for me, over there on that monitor is the control for the heat blanket. Second bracket up from the bottom left.”

Kylo pointed to be sure before touching anything.

“Yep, that one. It's not on now, but could you turn it on to the lowest setting, please?"

He nodded and did as he was asked, sitting down again and seeking out Hux's arm under the covers. The warmth had increased to a comfortable level, though Hux's skin still felt clammy.  "Why is he so cold when his fever is so high?"

"It's sort of a runaway reaction. A fever helps to fight infection, so if his brain convinces his body that he's cold, he'll shiver more and raise the temperature even higher. The problem is, he can't shiver because he's temporarily paralyzed, so we need to warm him artificially with the blankets to prevent this spiraling out of control. He feels cold to you, though, because his blood pressure is dropping; that’s different."

Dr. Kalonia arrived together with Anan and nodded toward Kylo and Lydia before speaking to Emlii.  “What’s the situation, Nurse Tarkin?”

The nurse repeated back the details of Hux’s decline and the steps she’d taken so far while Kalonia scanned him with her personal medical scanner and reached over to confirm his pulse.  “He’s been fending this off for a long time,” she said, placing her hand tenderly on Hux’s forehead as though she were comforting a small child, “but it’s certainly sepsis.  Let’s get him started on 2 liters of fluid, and switch the HD over to CRRT.  Actually, let’s bump that up to 3 liters; I suspect this isn’t going to be an easy fight for him.”

Anan passed the IV bags over to Emlii, who started hanging them, while he stepped around Kylo and Lydia to the machine that was filtering Hux’s blood.  He tapped a few things into the panel on top, then into his own handheld scanner, repeating, “Fluids, 3 liters, and CRRT begun at 19:37.”

“I’m authorizing two vasopressors for initial use, and as many more liters of fluids as you need; if the fluid course doesn’t bring this under control after 1 to 2 hours start the pressors.”  She accessed his lab results and scan data on the screens, gliding her fingers over reams of numbers and letters. “I’m adding cantocillin, 1g, Q 8 hours, and laanacin, 1500mg, Q 8 hours to the broad-spectrum antibiotics.  We’ll reassess and adjust those as needed after mid-day.”  Dr. Kalonia entered the orders into her datapad and sent them out to all the nursing staff on Hux’s care team, and checked over Hux’s updated bloodwork on the screens.  Anan repeated everything that was said in order to double-check as he entered the information in to the official log. “Keep an eye on his pH, it’s already down to 7.28, and draw a CMP, Q 6 hours.  We’ve been expecting this, so let’s stay on top of it. I’m trusting you to administer fluids and pressors at your discretion. I don’t want this getting out of hand, but if he continues to decline I’ve put in a backup authorization for two more pressors in case I’m not available during that time.”

“Understood. I’ll pass all of this along to the morning team when they get here,” Nurse Rol said.

Orders given and patient assessed, Kalonia turned her concern to Kylo and Lydia. “And how are you holding up?”

Kylo had never realized what a complex question that could be.  Though the nurses were working at a smooth, measured pace, Kylo could feel the tension in the air.  Hux’s life was on the line yet again, and even though they didn’t show it in their professional demeanor, he could tell that their prognosis was not a positive one.  Kylo would never admit just how close he teetered on the brink of a complete breakdown. There was never enough downtime to process any of this, and the ups and downs of Hux’s progression kept him in a near constant state of hyper-alertness.  He’d slept, but not very long or very well, and he’d barely eaten. If he hadn’t been forced to sanitize himself whenever he entered the room, he wouldn’t have even bothered to look after himself in that respect.  He wasn’t dirty -- the sonic cleansers and antiseptic field generators were extremely effective -- but he _felt_ dirty and disheveled.

“I’m… alright,” he lied.

“You’re not, but that’s to be expected.” Kalonia smiled and patted his shoulder.  “Why don’t you hop into the refresher there and take a nice, hot bath.  It’ll soothe your nerves and help you sleep.  You’re going to need it.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t— What if—?”

“Nothing’s going to happen to him.  Not for several hours at least.  He’s very, _very_ sick right now, but it’s not going to progress so quickly that you can’t take some time to take care of yourself.  Recharge while you can.” She raised a finger to silence further protest. “Besides, I’d like to speak with his mother for a while.”

Kylo frowned, feeling like he was breaking his promise to Hux by stepping away even a few meters.  There was a large, well-appointed refresher integrated into Hux’s medical suite, but using it for something as luxurious as a long soak at a time like this felt like a betrayal.  He gave Hux’s arm a tiny squeeze and whispered, “I’ll be right here, love.  The doctor’s here, and your mother, too.  You’ll be safe.”

He offered his chair to Dr. Kalonia as he shuffled over to the refresher and slid the door shut behind him.  Shrugging off his robes and hanging them in the sonic to clean them more thoroughly, he tried to avoid making eye contact with his reflection in the mirror.  Instead, he focused on his scars, so many from years of training and fighting, and the 5 newer ones that had healed into puckered, angry red lines and starry splotches.  If he’d taken better care of himself after dropping Hux off on the Finalizer, he might not have had any scars.  He traced his fingers along the longest one, from his shoulder up to his brow.  Fortunately, he’d turned his face at the last second when Kira -- _Ah, no, Rey_ , he reminded himself -- struck her final blow, or he would have lost his eye.  He had been temporarily blinded and panicked when he woke on the cot that passed for a med bay, but Hux had done a fine job caring for him.  After 2 days of Bacta drops, his vision had returned to normal.

In a rare moment of vanity, he worried what Hux would think when he finally saw his face.  He would probably scold Kylo as if he were an irresponsible child for the lapse in his self-care.  Imagining Hux chiding him, as though everything were back to normal, made it easier to slip into the tub and relax.  Though he knew it was something he should do, he still felt the uncomfortable tug of guilt for daring to enjoy something while his husband suffered.

The bathtub was spacious, having been crafted to suit aquatic species’ needs, as well as being easily accessible.  Water constantly flowed through a series of jets and filters, eliminating the need to wait for a bath to be drawn.  A panel nearby allowed the temperature to be set to any preference.  Kylo cranked it up to 44, waited a few moments, then passed through the unidirectional force field that held the water in place.  He hissed at the initial shock of heat, but as he lowered himself into the tub the warmth penetrated his muscles and soothed the aches of his ragged body and mind.

Outside, he could just make out the murmured conversation between the doctor and Hux’s mother.  He felt bad for listening in, but he couldn’t shake the protective urge to be sure Hux was safe without him in the room.  After a while, deciding that Lydia meant him no harm, he felt himself sinking as he drifted off into a meditative state.  He allowed himself to float there, willing the tension to leave his muscles centimeter by centimeter, from head to toe. 

Hours passed in blessed silence.  Eventually, Kylo’s guilt outweighed his need for rest, and he got out, toweled off, and pulled his robes from the launderer.  The smell reminded him of home, of a childhood long past, of waking late on the weekends to his mother bringing in all his freshly cleaned clothes and laying them out for him to fold.  The short, domestic scene brought a sad smile to his lips.  She had tried so hard to give him a normal life.

A beeping from the machines outside broke through his recollections, and he dashed out to see what was wrong.  Hux’s mother was nowhere to be seen, and three new nurses flitted about the bed.  “What’s going on? Where’s his mother?”

Without looking up from their duties, the head day nurse explained, “She left just a few minutes ago.  Said she had to turn in for morning duty.  His blood pressure dropped again, so we started him on some medicines to even it out, but they’re not as effective as we’d hoped, so we’re running more fluids.”

The day shift was efficient, but brusque.  Kylo hadn’t really gotten to know them as well, since he’d mostly been asleep during the daytime, or Hux had been out for surgery.  Palpable unease vibrated throughout the room, whether from Hux’s condition or their dislike of him, or Kylo’s distrust of them, he couldn’t tell. 

Kylo’s suspicion notwithstanding, they did the best they could to try to stave off Hux’s steady decline, all through the day and into the night shift’s return.  It didn’t take long for the restoring effects of the bath to wear off.  Kylo exhausted himself worrying, helping them lift Hux when needed, and pacing about when there wasn’t anything for him to do.  By the time evening fell, Hux’s blood pressure had also fallen, plummeting to dangerous levels that could only be maintained through constant stimulation via drugs and continuous flushes of fluid.

The full nursing team had crowded around Hux’s bed, and Kylo hadn’t been allowed near him in some time when Lydia finally returned, bearing containers of home-cooked food.  His stomach knotted and twisted at the appetizing scent; he’d been so preoccupied he’d forgotten to eat again.  She stopped short when she saw Kylo’s agitated pacing and all the nurses milling about her son’s bed. 

“Oh, no! What’s happened? Is he—Is he ok? Please…”   

She dropped the bags of food, but Kylo reflexively caught them with the Force and set them down off to the side as she rushed in to embrace him.  He squeezed her, perhaps a little harder than he should have, but he needed to feel the warmth of another person right now, something real and solid that could anchor him and not leave him adrift in the growing darkness.

His lips trembled and his throat tightened in defiance of the words that weighed on his tongue.

“He’s… dying.”


	12. Chapter 12

_"Good evening! This is Zeesha Graystone, once again bringing you breaking news here at the QCN live broadcast of the ongoing protest at the Hanna City Veterans' Hospital. Two important pieces of news have come to light over the last 20 hours.  Firstly, the mysterious Jedi, seen earlier in the footage of the Starkiller’s arrival, appears to be none other than the son of General Leia Organa, Ben Solo, previously thought to have been killed in the Jedi massacre some 5 years ago.  We are still in the process of confirming his identity as few public images exist of him past age 15, when he disappeared from the public eye to pursue his arcane studies of the Force.  Secondly, we've now confirmed, via an anonymous inside source at the hospital, that General Armitage Hux of the First Order is, in fact, being treated here.  Our source tells us that he not only flatlined during a surgery to amputate his leg, but also that he was resuscitated shortly after.  The source additionally provided us with video evidence, which we have spent a great deal of time authenticating, that the relationship between General Hux and Ben Solo may be more than just prisoner and guard.  This footage was taken of the Starkiller, and what appears to be Ben Solo, in rather intimate contact."_

_An old-style, striated blue HoloVid played, the initial jostling movement showing a glimpse of General Organa herself snoozing on a pull out bed, then shifting to focus on the two figures in the frame.  A broad-shouldered man, his dark hair pulled back into a short ponytail, lay slumped over from his chair onto a hospital bed, snoring softly.  His head rested partially on his arm, which extended up the side of the bed's railing toward the patient's head.  As the HoloRecorder moved upward, following the muscular curves of the man's arm, his hand could be seen curled gently against the patient's face and shaved head.  The camera lingered on the face of the man in bed.  Even bandaged and bruised, made sallow by fever and starvation, there was no mistaking those cheekbones or the bow of those cracked but full lips.  This was the Starkiller brought low._

_“As you can see,” another facial analysis grid popped up to overlay a freeze frame of the HoloVid, “This is, without a doubt, the Starkiller.  And if the other man in the frame turns out to be Ben Solo, I’m afraid there are many questions that could arise concerning the Organas and their ties to the Dark Side.  As you may know, former Senator Princess Leia Organa suffered a devastating political scandal six years ago when her familial ties to Darth Vader, Emperor Palpatine’s vile enforcer, were revealed by a fellow noble, the former Lady Carise Sindian, who herself represented General Hux’s home planet of Arkanis in the Galactic Senate at the time.  Princess Organa then left her life of politics and assumed the title of General Organa to form the paramilitary organization known as the Resistance. If her son turns out to have romantic ties to the galaxy’s most deplorable mass murderer, she could stand to lose her status and position all over again.”_

_In the background, the protestors, in various states of wakefulness, began to shout once more.  Zeesha turned to see what all the commotion was about, and the camdroids followed her, and the protestors’, line of sight.  Three APCs stopped and hovered by the emergency entrance to the hospital, disgorging squads of New Republic Army troopers.  About half took up guard positions around the perimeter of the hospital, while just as many marched inside, weapons shouldered but at the ready._

_Zeesha motioned for the camdroids to follow and jogged up to the entrance. She was determined to beat the three other rival newscasters there, but also to not appear threatening. The last thing she needed was to lose a camdroid, or worse, her life.  She slowed her pace to just a beat faster than her rivals and called out to the commanding officer, “Lieutenant! Lieutenant! Are your men here to arrest General Hux? Or have they been deployed on protection duty to waste more of the taxpayers’ credits?”_

_The four nearest soldiers raised their blasters to waist level, tensing up as the four reporters descended upon them. “Stay back!” they barked._

_“Not that I’d call it a waste, given you people’s tendency to stir up trouble, but yes, to both,” the lieutenant turned and spoke over his shoulder as he directed his men to their positions, “General Hux is being placed under arrest, and he will be held here, under guard, until he is determined fit to stand trial.”_

_“Have there been further attempts on his life?” one of the other journalists called out before Zeesha got a chance._ Stang! _she swore._

_“You’ve gotten all the info you’re gonna get. I suggest you get back behind those barricades unless you want to join him under arrest.”_

_“You heard it here on QCN first, folks,” Graystone huffed as she hiked back up the hill to their encampment, “General Hux, the Starkiller himself, is being placed under arrest as we speak.  If he survives his injuries, he will stand trial for his crimes, and the people of the Republic will finally see justice done.”_


	13. Chapter 13

Lydia could hear Kylo's heart pounding through his layered robes. She pressed her ear closer to his chest. The rough fabric scratched her cheek but she didn't care; she'd rather hear anything other than the words he'd just spoken.  If she could just listen to the pulse of his life, so strong and immutable, she could convince herself that her son's life, intertwined with this man's through the power of the Force, would be safe.

Hux's glow flickered in and out with the erratic beeping of the heart monitor; a technological siren song pulling Kylo ever closer to the void.

The nurses had been calling out to each other and to Dr. Kalonia for some time, listing off drugs, actions, and reactions in an orderly and calm manner, but both Kylo and Lydia could sense their mounting tension.

They were losing him.

Kalonia glanced over to the distraught pair.  Ben had been watching their every move for the past 2 hours, visibly shaken and exhausted.  He’d consumed more caf than the nursing staff combined, and refused to leave his husband’s side except to briefly attend nature’s call.  Despite her team’s best efforts, she’d had a bad feeling about Hux’s steady decline and worried about Ben’s emotional and physical state as well.  Though her decades of medical service had made her somewhat immune to the desperate stares of patients’ families, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for the man she’d once known as a wee babe.  This might be his last chance to be near the man he loved, and from the look in his eyes, he knew it.  “Ben, Lydia,” she said, motioning them over.  Gently, she made a small space for them between the bustling nurses and beeping machines at the head of the bed.  “You can stand here for now, but if someone shouts ‘clear’ you have to step back and you mustn’t touch him or the bed. Understood?”

Kylo nodded vigorously, just grateful to be close to Hux once more despite the cramped, awkward position. “Yes, thank you.”  He reached out a trembling hand to rest on Hux’s bruised cheek, careful to avoid the patched cuts and burns.  Leaning in, he whispered, "I'm here, love.  Right here.  Stay with me, please." 

Lydia stroked Hux’s shoulder, comforting her son for the first time in 30 years.  She hoped he could feel her presence.  To think he could slip away from her now, after so long, without her even getting to say goodbye, shattered whatever hold she’d had on her anger and sorrow.  “Armie, please, please fight; don’t make me lose you again,” she sobbed.  

At the Battle of Jakku, she thought her baby boy had surely died upon one of the many crashed or exploded Star Destroyers that littered the sandy planet.  She had been inconsolable for months afterward, as the New Republic fleet took down more and more of the Imperial stragglers and holdouts without mercy.  Even if he had escaped from Jakku, she feared he might have been on any number of the ships that were hunted down, obliterated, or hauled away to one of the dreadful Outer Rim prison camps Supreme Chancellor Mothma had opened to house the overflow of prisoners after her declaration that _all_ Imperials be tried as war criminals.  Families had not even been spared.  Young children of imprisoned Imperials had sometimes been taken in by various planetary orphanages, but those were often already overflowing with their own local casualties of the Galactic War.  Most children found themselves turned out into the streets, or worse, sold into slavery.

For nearly ten years, Lydia continued the search as she picked up the pieces of her life and attempted to put them back together with her new family.  She’d been pregnant with Hux’s sister when Brendol stole him away -- a fact she’d kept hidden from that disgusting monster of a man.  Her husband, Khel, had been so patient and understanding, helping her when and where he could, and eventually adopting her daughter after their wedding.  Khel was an A-Wing pilot for the Rebel Alliance who’d lost his wife and son in the war. He had been responsible for much of the destruction on Arkanis during its liberation, though Lydia didn’t harbor any grudges toward him for that.  There had been casualties, many of them children, but Brendol had to be stopped.  _The things that had gone on in that academy_ … _The things he did to our son_ …

She shuddered at the memories. 

Her unspeakable joy at having found Armitage again, nearly 20 years after his disappearance, had been mitigated by the medium of her discovery: a grainy Holo of her boy, now a handsome young man, burning with the fires of fanaticism as he delivered a speech to some newly allied planet on the edges of Wild Space.  She had known it was him even before seeing the name displayed on the newsfeed: Colonel Armitage Hux.  The shock of orange hair, pressed into the same, smooth shell he’d worn as a child -- the only way to control the frizzy licks of flame in such a rainy, humid atmosphere.  The bright intelligence that flashed in his eyes, though it had been bent to dark purpose.  This was her little Armie, molded and twisted like a Felucian shock-tree to retain the shapes of hatred and cruelty his father had nurtured in him.  Brendol had won.

She wondered how much he must have suffered at the hands of that tyrant to have become the angry, shrieking demon of a man she saw before her.

Lydia couldn’t tell anyone who he was to her, after that.  Couldn’t share her excitement and relief at having found him.  And she _had_ been relieved, despite everything.  He was alive.  And alive meant there was a chance that his wrongs, and the wrongs done to him, could be righted.  He could be saved.

Or so she had thought.

Lydia didn’t know what he could do, or where he could even begin, to make amends for the horrendous tragedy he’d perpetrated upon the galaxy, but if he died on her now, he would never have that chance.  One chance was all she asked.  She just wanted to see her once-sweet boy have the opportunity to live the kind of life he _should_ have had.  A part of her knew that could never happen, but she shushed that voice and shut it away, because the most important thing in this moment was that he lived.

She had to see him, speak to him, make him understand that she’d never given up looking for him.  That she’d loved him, even if no one else had.  She had to know the kind of life he’d led.  What did he like? Did he listen to music, enjoy art, watch HoloDramas in his spare time? He had a husband now, but did he have friends, lovers before that? Had he even wanted to be a soldier? Or was there some other dream in his heart that had been denied?

In the absence of any feeling from Hux, Kylo couldn’t help but be drawn to the emotional turmoil in his mother.  Lydia was a knot of conflict; he imagined it must be something like what his own mother was trying to untangle -- undying love for her son, complicated by abhorrence of the things he’d done.

As Hux’s heart rate continued to climb to dangerous heights, and Kalonia’s voice became even more urgent and businesslike than before, Kylo added his own pleas to his husband.  He was already so far gone, but he hoped his voice would reach him in the darkness.  “Please, keep fighting, Tage.  Please.  I love you.”  He breathed out the last line with the reverence of a prayer, more thought than sound, “Please, don’t leave me.”

“He’s going into v-tach.” Kalonia said. One quiet statement that lingered in a half second of silence, then ushered in a cacophony of sound and movement that seemed to be happening all at once.

One of the nurses pulled away the blankets and reached toward Hux’s groin, pressing two fingers into the crook of his leg for a few seconds.  “No pulse,” she confirmed and leaned in to start chest compressions.

“Rol, call the code and keep recording; Alur, attach the defibrillator; Tarkin, get him off the vent and on manual until the RT arrives, then switch out with Daesin on compressions.” Kalonia’s eyes followed her team as they jumped to their positions, then to Hux, then to the monitors, then back to Hux.

Kylo and Lydia gasped at the wet crunching of Hux’s ribs re-breaking under the stress of the compressions and the blood that bubbled up into the breathing tube every time the nurse pushed down.

“I can feel multiple rib fractures.”

“Fractures recorded, reminder to scan for hemo-/pneumothorax noted,” Rol replied.

Even more disturbing than the sound, the sight of Hux having no reaction at all to the pain.  His skin had gone even more pallid than usual, mottled with purple networks of broken capillaries that seemed to have been spreading for the past several hours.

Daesin continued counting off her compressions, pausing only for a moment as Nurse Alur peeled off the coverings of the defibrillator patches and smoothed them down over Hux’s chest and abdomen.  He stepped back to the machines and announced, “Charging at 120 joules, clear the patient—”

Kalonia glanced to Kylo and Lydia long enough to be sure they’d remembered to get back in all the confusion.  She was pleased to see him pull Lydia’s hand away and hold her close just in time.  _Good.  I won’t have to make them leave_.  She watched the monitor for a few seconds more to analyze the still erratic rhythm before nodding to Alur.

“—Shocking in 3, 2, 1… Shock delivered.”

Hux’s muscles contracted, causing him to jerk, but even that small, distressing movement was more life than he’d shown in days.  Kylo held his breath, clutching Lydia to him and searching for any sign of recovery.  A tiny light remained, but it had dimmed so far that Kylo felt like he had to reach his mind out through the vastness of space to touch it, even though Hux was right there in front of him.

*Please, Tage. Please…*

In the eerie seconds of quiet that followed, Emlii switched out with a new nurse, another Twi’lek, who rushed in and took over squeezing the manual ventilator bulb.  No one spoke while Kalonia frowned at the monitors. “Still in v-tach. No pulse.” She shook her head slightly. “Resume compressions,” she ordered. “Daesin, draw up 1mg of epinephrine.”

“1mg epinephrine; on it,” Daesin confirmed, excusing herself as she passed beside Kylo to unlock and pull out a drawer full of stim cartridges.

Kylo was so focused on Hux slipping away that, amongst all the other noises, he didn't notice the door opening or the two Republic troopers tromping in until Dr. Kalonia diverted her attention to the interlopers.

"You can't be in here. You need to leave. Now."

"We have the right to be present, pursuant to code 45C-129.569: execution of an arrest warrant for one General Armitage Hux of the First Order, enemy combatant and accused war criminal under the Galactic Concordance, Article 5, Sub-Section--"

"This is a medical emergency," Anan stepped forward, unfazed by their bluster, "I won't tell you again: leave, now."

The trooper drew breath to speak and showed no signs of backing down.  Kylo raised his hand to choke off any reply he might have had.  Fury boiled up within him -- how dare they interrupt the last, fleeting moments he might have with his husband -- but before he had a chance to do something he would likely regret, Lydia screamed.

"Get out!"

She flung her hand out toward the two soldiers, shoving them out of the room with a powerful surge of the Force.  They flew backwards, one striking the wall and the other toppling over a cart in the hallway.  Kylo barely restrained himself from shorting out the door , realizing at the last second that other doctors or nurses might need to get in or out.  Instead, he held it shut as the troopers clambered back up and pounded on it to be let in.  He couldn’t hold it forever, though, and his attention was already being pulled in three directions at once between shock over Lydia’s use of the Force, her distress at having done so, and Hux’s decline.

Kylo’s surprise at Lydia’s sudden show of power was obvious, but the medical team showed no signs of having been distracted in the least from their duties.  Emlii continued to count off her compressions, Alur charged the defibrillator, and the Twi’lek nurse, Ven, by the name embroidered neatly on her scrubs, continued to monitor and administer regular breaths to her unresponsive patient.  Lydia, on the other hand, was nearing a breakdown.  She leaned into Kylo again, shaking, glancing at Hux intermittently, almost unable to watch as her son’s heart slowly gave out.

“Two minutes,” Rol called out, keeping an eye on his datapad as well as the angry soldiers outside.

“Pause compressions,” Kalonia ordered, waiting and watching again.  “Rol, please call security to deal with them.”  Kylo felt her determination rippling on the surface of her thoughts as she frowned again at the monitors.  Hux’s heart seemed to fall back into a more regular, if still rushed, pace.

After a single breath of relief, it fluttered and reverted to the same erratic jumping as before.

Kalonia’s voice hardened, “Bring us up to 200 joules.”

“Shocking at 200 joules. Charging… Clear!”

Everyone moved away again.

“Shocking in 3, 2, 1…”

Hux’s muscles seized, his breath wheezing out through the blood in the endotracheal tube.

After a few seconds, it became clear his rhythm was not going to return to normal.

“Administer the epinephrine. 1mg.”

Daesin handed off the syringe to Emlii and prepared to switch places with her again. “Pushing 1mg epinephrine,” Emlii said, Nurse Daesin jumping back into the action just as Dr. Kalonia nodded for them to continue the CPR.

Hux hung on through two more repetitions of the procedure, as the level of shocks and the drugs administered escalated each time.  His rhythm would become normal, but within minutes return to a faltering pattern. 

He was almost gone.  Present only as the faintest of light.

Lydia couldn’t bear to lose him again.  She already thought she’d lost him forever when Starkiller Base was destroyed, yet here he was, as determined as a rat roach to survive the most dire of circumstances.  She hoped he could make it over this one, last hurdle.

Kylo, who had already felt the piercing loss of their bond once, didn’t know if he could take it again.  He could already feel the change in the atmosphere.  They were giving up on him.

Kalonia glanced up, knowing that the two Force users could both sense her thoughts and those of the rest of the team.  She hoped her people were as dedicated and professional as she imagined, but she wasn’t privy to whatever dark thoughts might lurk in their hearts.  She didn’t need the Force to know that they were all expecting to lose him.  Taking a deep breath, she considered which of the many reversible causes might have led to this circumstance.  They had done all they could to prevent a crash like this, but certain factors had likely changed as his condition deteriorated.  Consulting the readout of his bloodwork on the monitor, she saw that his pH had dipped again during the code.

“Increase the rate of his bicarb drip and push two more amps—”

The heart monitor stuttered and squealed out a single, persistent beep.

“No, no, no, no, please, no…” Lydia cried, her voice trailing off into words from a language Kylo had heard only a few times before, in Hux’s mind or whispered in his sleep.

“Switch and continue compressions.  Give him another dose of epi.  Let’s get him back.”

Holding on to Lydia with one arm, Kylo reached over to touch Hux’s face.  He couldn’t think of anything to say, and his chest felt so constricted with grief he wasn’t sure he could have spoken anyway.  He wanted to beg, plead to any god who would listen, but even the Force remained silent -- a deafness in his ears that echoed the numbness in his heart.

The beeping jumped back to life, restoring a flicker of hope before extinguishing it almost immediately.  It was only the pressure of the compressions that had caused it to sound again.  After a minute, Kalonia called for more meds.  Kylo watched each one flow into the lines in Hux’s chest, holding his breath in anticipation that one of them contained the power to bring his husband back to him.  He reached out into the emptiness, desperate to hold on to the dying glow of Hux’s spirit, trying the only thing he could think of to keep it there: he clung to it, wrapping tendrils of his Force energy around it as though he were manipulating a tangible object.  It was beyond reason.  Hopeless.  But he had to try _something_.  The initial stab of loss was nothing compared to feeling Hux slip from his grasp.  It sickened and pained him, as if a jagged blade were being slowly twisted and pulled from his heart.

Anan called out the two-minute mark and everyone looked to the doctor in tense silence as she called for another break to assess.

“We have a pulse!” Emlii shouted, perhaps a little louder than she’d intended.

A faint but somewhat steady beat sounded from the monitor. 

Kalonia sighed and nodded.  “Alright, good work.  He’s in a-fib now.  Daesin, push 30mg of Cardomide, and Tarkin, hang a 300mg bolus of Eliodarone.”

Kylo and Lydia watched, not daring to relax or let down their guard.  They clung to one another, each the other’s rock in a sea of uncertainty, steadying each other from being dashed on the rocky shores of hope.

The nurses repeated back their orders and followed them with a renewed sense of purpose.  It soon became quiet and calm enough that the altercation between the hospital security and the Republic army men registered in the periphery of Kylo’s senses. 

With the addition of the new drugs, the frantic beating of Hux’s heart slowed and settled into a weak, but stable rhythm. 

Kalonia let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.  For one moment she allowed a bit of relief to wash over her, but she soon narrowed her eyes and glared toward the ongoing scuffle outside.  “I want them out of here. The warrant can wait.”

Rol nodded and motioned for Daesin to follow him.  Ven reconnected Hux’s breathing tube to the respirator and made sure the settings had been properly adjusted, then suctioned some of the blood out of the tube. 

Emlii pulled the two chairs back to Hux’s bedside while Dr. Kalonia re-covered his lower half and tucked the blankets back around him.  She gestured for Lydia and Ben to sit.  They did so, their quaking legs dropping them into the chairs like stones into the ocean.  Alur disappeared and reappeared within minutes bearing two warm blankets and a tray full of steaming cups of caf.

Kylo and Lydia thanked him and accepted their cups as the nurse wrapped the blankets around them and left again, setting the extra cups on a nearby cart.  Grabbing one for herself, Dr. Kalonia took a few quick sips of the bitter brew and tapped notes into her datapad.  The oily scent of the roasted beans was enough to bring a little life back to Kylo.  He didn’t know what was going on with the soldiers outside the room, but he sensed that Kalonia’s satisfaction extended to whatever was happening out there with Nurses Rol and Daesin.  The two of them were quiet beings who seemed the sorts to let their size do the talking.  Apparently, it was saying a lot.  Several minutes passed without a sound other than Hux’s mechanical breathing and the soft beeps of the machines, and then the two nurses returned to the room, seeming much less agitated.

“They tried to argue their right to issue the warrant, but we shut them down.  Now they’re just being stubborn and staying out there in the hall.  I told them they would have to wait until he’s awake and coherent before they’d be allowed back in.”

“Do they know that will be a few weeks, at the very least?” the doctor asked.

Rol’s lips curled into a mischievous grin, exposing his pointed teeth.  He shrugged.  “Not my problem.”

Kalonia smiled at that, too.  She had zero tolerance for people interrupting medical emergencies, and she was versed well enough in both civilian and military law to know that warrants should not be served on patients who were not lucid enough to comprehend the charges.  After Nurse Alur returned with the re-heated containers of forgotten dinner and had passed them over to Kylo and Lydia, Kalonia gathered her team and discussed the next several hours’ treatment regimen with them.  Kylo tried to follow, but he couldn’t take his eyes, or his hand, off of Hux for even a second.

He was surprised to find he’d quickly devoured the delicious meal when he brought an empty fork to his lips.  Time seemed to have no meaning after the constant waves of terror and shock that had been crashing into him over the last few days.  His body was reacting and moving about as if on auto-pilot.  He hadn’t even realized Lydia was Force-sensitive, he’d been so fixated on Hux and the bond they shared.  Even monitoring him now, he could barely feel her presence there unless he specifically concentrated on it.  It wasn’t that her Force signature was weak, far from it; she must have just been very practiced at hiding it.  Later, he might think more deeply on that, but at the moment exhaustion and concern for Hux outweighed his curiosity.

After some time, he began to sense a growing discomfort radiating from his husband.  He frowned, thinking that Hux should still be unconscious, but when his lip twitched, Kylo leapt from the chair.  “He moved! His lips moved! He’s waking up!”

Everyone stopped talking and turned their attention to Hux. 

Kylo reached over to caress his cheek.  He could see Hux’s mouth working to speak, but the breathing tube prevented him from making any sound. 

*Tage? Love?* Kylo reached out through their bond, but Hux’s mind was too warped by agony to respond with anything other than a rapidly building scream.

“He’s in so much pain. Why aren’t the drugs working?”

“We just had to be sure he would wake up,” Kalonia explained, already injecting more sedatives into his central line.  “I’m putting him back under now.”

Enduring the short-lived but intense rise in Hux’s distress, Kylo grit his teeth and tried to whisper to him soothingly.  “It’s alright, love. Don’t fight it; you’ll be out again soon. You’re safe. I love you.”

A single thought surfaced through the swirl of pain and confusion in Hux’s head.

_…Kylo?_

“I’m here. Right here. It’s ok.”

And then he was gone again, submerged under a blessed rush of relief.

Kalonia waited a moment out of respect, then said in a softer tone, “Could you both sit over there for a while? I’m going to take care of some of the complications from these rib fractures now that he’s out again.”

“Sure,” Kylo sniffled, leaning over to place a gentle kiss on the top of Hux’s head before stepping away.

Lydia sat down beside Kylo on the extra bed and pulled the blanket more tightly around herself.  There was no doubt in her mind that this man loved her son; she could feel his anxiety over Hux’s discomfort, and she could see the purity of the light that flickered within him at even the lightest whisper of his fingertips over Hux’s bruised flesh. 

But he was not the good and kind man she had first thought him to be.


	14. Chapter 14

Ben Solo was Kylo Ren.  The Jedi Killer.

It all made so much more sense now.  _Why would a Jedi, even an undercover one, have fallen in love with the enemy?_ She supposed it could happen, but the simpler explanation was that Ben was, in fact, that dark, ominous figure that stood beside or lurked behind her son at so many of his rallies and speeches.  Very little information on Kylo Ren had filtered back to the Republic; most of what they knew about him came through rumor and hearsay, or the frantic words of the rare survivor of a First Order action. 

His debut with the Order as their dark enforcer seemed to coincide with the slaughter of the Jedi, too.

But had Ben simply been a survivor of that massacre? Tortured and coerced into joining the Jedi’s killers, and into becoming Kylo Ren? Her son’s suffering bore witness to the fact that the Order was capable of inflicting unspeakable atrocities upon their own.

Or… had he perpetrated it?

Lydia couldn’t bear to entertain that thought.  She’d lost her daughter, her dear, gentle Calla, at Skywalker’s Jedi academy.  The pain of that loss -- the old wounds it had opened in Lydia’s life -- it was all still so fresh in her mind, renewed every time Armitage knocked on death’s door. 

And Kylo did love him.  Of that, she was certain.  There was kindness in him yet, though she now wondered if there wasn’t more to the fury that lie simmering inside him.  Was it a righteous anger at the injustice done to Armitage? Or was he always a knot of rage?

Perhaps he had only been pretending to fall to the Dark Side, so he could undermine the First Order from within.  Their wedding _had_ been secret -- she had sensed no deception there -- but why? They were two of the highest ranking officials in the Order; surely they could do as they pleased? Unless they had other secrets they were keeping?

Whatever his reasons, the fact that Kylo Ren was Ben Solo carried its own separate set of complications, ones with which she needn’t concern herself at the moment.  At least now she understood why Leia had been so kind and accepting of her predicament.  She _had_ to have known who her son really was.  If so, it meant she was going through a lot of the same turmoil as Lydia, struggling with so many complex emotions toward her own son and his crimes.  It stung, being lied to by a friend, but she understood the necessity of the deception.

Lydia couldn’t judge Leia too harshly. After all, she had lied to her husband about where she’d been for the past two days, and she still wasn’t really ready to tell him the whole truth.  Their relationship had survived the loss of her son and her desperate searches for him, as well as the death of their daughter.  It had been rocky, and painful, and difficult to stick to, but they’d made it through the worst of it, and Khel’s love for her had remained steady and true.

_But to admit that my son, my flesh and blood, is -- was -- the face of our greatest enemy…_

Lydia had to tell him.  As soon as possible.  Before word got out on its own and did irreparable damage to her reputation and career, not to mention her personal relationships.

She had to get home and prepare for her upcoming duty shift, and after that, the return of her youngest son from his scouting mission in the Outer Rim.  Perhaps she could break the news to them then, when they could all be together as a family in the privacy and security of their home.  _Yes. That would be for the best._

Lost in thought, she watched Kalonia work for a while.  She cringed at the wet sounds of blood being suctioned from Armitage’s lungs.

“I’m sorry; I have to go,” she stood abruptly and folded the blanket, placing it on the bed as she turned to Kylo, “You’ll stay here with him, won’t you?”

“Yes, of course. But—”

She ignored Ben’s protests and turned to Dr. Kalonia. “Will he be alright for now?”

“I’m sorry; I can’t say for certain. He’s in very delicate condition. We’re going to keep him under a 20-hour watch, but if anything happens, we’ll comm you.”

“Thank you.” Lydia stepped to her son’s side, cupping his stubbled head as she leaned over to kiss him softly on the cheek.  “I’ll be back as soon as I can, _ah’stor._ Stay strong.”

Kylo watched her go, perplexed by her sudden departure and change in mood.

After a while, he spoke up. “So… his heart could give out again?”

“It’s very likely, yes. If he makes it through the next 20 to 40 hours without any more episodes, we’ll be more certain that he’s improving. These next two days are crucial.”

And a tense two days they were, with Hux edging ever closer to another cardiac arrest, three more times before the first night was out.  Throughout those two days, with continuous nursing care, a little color returned to him and the mottled, bruise-like markings faded.  The nurses had begun turning him and bathing him, and Kylo was glad for the chance to assist and feel useful again. 

Having something to do made Hux's slow, strenuous recovery feel more concrete. The same feelings of guilt haunted him, enjoying the contact while knowing Hux wouldn’t want to be touched once he was awake.  Kylo spent most of the quiet times either meditating with Luke, or just sitting with Hux, resting his husband's shattered hand on his and talking to him about all sorts of things.  Things Kylo himself hadn't even thought about in years, like his travels and training with Luke, the times Leia dragged him to the Senate after school, racing his father in old X-Wings and Z-95 Headhunters around the Hydian Way and the Corellian Run, and the shenanigans he used to get up to with his friends and his little sister.  He glossed over the darker parts of his life, hoping the focus on the positive would help draw Hux back from the easy temptation of death, and perhaps give him some small reason to live.

Kylo knew Hux's own childhood had been dour, at best.  He suspected that he still only knew about a fraction of the abuses Hux had suffered under his father’s tyranny.  Whatever Hux had endured as a child had scarred him, both physically and mentally, and robbed him of the ability to enjoy even the smallest of pleasures in life without suspicion or shame.  Each one of those scars etched a story into his flesh: a long, lonely road traversed through the most dire of hopeless situations.  Hux had opened up a little since settling into a relationship with Kylo, but trust was a difficult thing to earn from the general.  Kylo always felt as though he were cracking the cover of an ancient, sacred tome -- if he turned the pages too quickly they would crumble under his boorish touch, lost forever.

Lydia filled him in on some of the details upon her return, but her picture of his life was nearly as incomplete as Kylo’s. Between the two of them, they could account for only 10 years out of 34.  The rest lay locked away, deep in Hux’s subconscious.

Kylo had a bad feeling he was about to learn more than he bargained for.

Though she spoke with Kylo as before, Lydia had seemed strangely cool toward him the first time she sat with him after Hux's crash, but, after her initial apprehension, things quickly returned to normal between them.  Kylo didn't push her as to why; he was concerned he might somehow have said something that offended her, but he didn’t dare poke around the edges of her thoughts, for fear he’d be sensed and caught out.

He assumed she was simply troubled by matters at home.  Lydia had told her husband about where she had been, with whom, and why.  He had not taken the news well, and neither had their son, who had stormed off and not spoken to her since that night.  Khel, having a deeper understanding of what Lydia had gone through losing Hux the first time, had come around after a few heated arguments.  At least she had told them before the news of her involvement broke over the HoloNet.

She had been in the room with Kylo when the story aired.  Kylo had moved to turn off the monitor, but she’d insisted on watching.  The protest had doubled in size, and the reporter could barely be heard above the din of their shouts.  Lydia absorbed the hateful accusations against her with a passive countenance, but after a point, waved a hand to shut it off.

For the first time, Kylo considered how such news affected the lives of others.  He had reacted selfishly, violently, upon discovering that his family had been lying to him about Darth Vader.  It had been the last break of faith that widened the rift between him and his parents and left him stranded on Snoke’s side.  That demon had been whispering to him from the deep chasm inside him for decades about his real lineage, his birthright, his true potential… intimating that they were concealing it from him because they feared and were jealous of his powers.  That they didn’t trust him.  And in the end, it had been true. (The deception, if not the reasons for it.)

Watching Lydia struggle with the fallout opened his eyes to what his mother and uncle must have gone through.  Lydia was fighting to keep up a brave face, but, as with Hux, he could sense her distress no matter how well she concealed it.  She stood to lose everything with this sordid revelation.  He supposed his mother would make a place for her in the Resistance, if it came to that, but perhaps with the war on the fact that she wasn't a high level officer or politician meant that there wouldn't be as many repercussions for her. 

Kylo realized how naïve that thought was when Admiral Ackbar himself paid a visit to the ward to summon her, in person, for a meeting.  After having met Lydia, Kylo understood where Hux’s fearlessness came from, but even her usual fierce intensity wavered in the presence of the famous Mon Calamari flag officer.  She took a deep breath and pushed herself from her chair as if a drowning woman willingly giving herself up to the tempestuous seas.

He couldn't hear what was being said, but he caught the shine of Ackbar's gelatinous eyes as they shifted their focus toward him and Hux.  Kylo didn't know what a glare from the aquatic species looked like, but he guessed that was it.  He could certainly sense the malice in his fish-eyed stare.

Keeping his own gaze neutral, Kylo studied their interaction.  It was brief.  Lydia stood tall and did not allow her shoulders to sag even when Kylo felt the weight of her growing apprehension pressing down on her.  Another woman in uniform appeared. Kylo wouldn't have recognized her but for the lavender hue of her hair: Admiral Holdo.  Lydia's posture stiffened at her approach, and she rendered another brisk salute.  Words were exchanged, more from the senior officers than from Lydia, who mostly only nodded.  Her grave expression gave way to shock only once, and she responded in what seemed to be a sharp, but quiet tone before saluting again and returning to the room.

Lydia washed her hands and replaced her mask before entering, hoping that the covering would help hide the redness of her embarrassment and anger.

"Everything ok?" Kylo asked out of politeness. Clearly, things were not.

"They've taken me off duty until things 'calm down'," she snorted. "They assured me it was only temporary and a 'leave of compassion', but they--" she looked over her shoulder to check that they had gone before continuing, "They want me to interrogate him."

Kylo's eyes widened, then narrowed. His entire body went rigid, tense and ready for a fight. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"They think he'll tell me things. Because I'm his mother." She shook her head, still in a daze of disbelief. "They didn't say it like that, of course, but it also wasn't a request. Can you believe it? Me. His mother. Who hasn't seen him in almost 30 years. I don't even know if he'll remember me. And the first thing they want me to do is ask him about the Order's plans." She shook her head again, for lack of any other way to express her feelings of betrayal and rising anger.

“That’s frelling nerfshit,” Kylo growled. He'd hoped the Republic would live up to its ideals a bit better than that, but he'd known all along how hypocritical they could be when they wanted something. He should have known better. The hairs on his arms prickled as he considered whether they would hold to their anti-torture, anti-capital punishment stances.  That they had stooped to asking his own mother, in direct violation of Republic law, to inform on her son, made him wonder how much further they would go when their demands were not met. He was relatively sure the hospital staff wouldn’t allow anything untoward to befall Hux, but once he was on the mend…

They needed to get out of here.  As soon as it was possible for Hux to move about on his own.

He didn’t know where they would go, or what they would do, but they had to leave this place.  He couldn’t balance Hux’s life against the Republic’s hollow platitudes.  He’d already caused his husband enough pain.

Turning to Lydia, he asked, “Are you going to be here for a while?”  He hated to leave her alone in such a state, but he had an idea, and the sooner he could act on it, the better.

“Y-yes,” she stammered. “I suppose I am, now.”

“Sorry, but there’s something I need to do.  It may take several hours, but I don’t know when I might get another chance.”

She blinked and eyed him with a flat stare.  Her natural curiosity still lie buried under a layer of shock.  “Ok.  I’ll tell them to keep him under until you’re back.”

“Thank you.”

Even though Hux couldn’t hear him, Kylo leaned in to kiss his forehead and whisper, “I’ll be back soon, love. Your mother’s here now; you won’t be alone.”

Pulling away felt like reversing out of a black hole.  He didn’t want to leave Hux, but this might be his only chance to do something personal, while also helping them to get out of this mess.

He shrugged off his robe, mask, and gloves into the sterilizer as he exited, pulling his hood up to remain anonymous as long as possible.  He could use the Force to pass through a sizeable crowd undetected, but not if that crowd were an angry mob on the lookout for him, specifically.  Blinking, having forgotten how bright everything outside Hux’s room was, he tugged his hood down lower as he wound his way through the corridors of the hospital.

Once outside, Kylo made it about a third of the way to the hangar before a swarm of camdroids hovered and buzzed around him, their optics flashing and clicking as they collected images for the newscast.  He shooed away the ones that tried to get a glimpse under his hood, shoving them aside with bursts of unseen energy.  Truly, he wished he could destroy them -- spewing their metallic guts out in a fit of sparks and circuitry -- but he kept his rage in check.

It was becoming harder and harder to contain his anger.  Only the ever-present fear of hurting or losing Hux, and the accumulating press of exhaustion, kept him from lashing out.  The strain had worn him down; day after day of adrenaline constantly flooding his veins had taken its toll on his self-control.  He would lose it, and soon, and he hoped to be as far away from Hux as possible when he finally did.

The hangar was a spacious, private affair.  A large, irising dome loomed overhead, barely arcing high enough to allow enough clearance for the wingtips of his shuttle.  The old-fashioned, stone and metal enclosure trapped the lingering scents of engine grease and sooty exhaust fumes.  

He looked around to be sure no one (and no droid) had followed before entering his security code and stomping up the loading ramp.  It had been several days, but the stench of their cramped four-day journey still had not aired out.  Kylo set the O2 scrubbers to work and left the vents open to cycle in some fresh air while he ran a pre-flight check.  As far as he could tell, no one had downloaded or uploaded anything on the flight recorder, no trackers had been placed on the hull, and the comm system seemed equally clean.

 _Still, better to be on the safe side_. 

He decided to wait until he was in hyperspace to send his transmission.  If anyone was observing his shuttle, he’d make it as hard as possible for them to trace any incoming or outgoing signals.  The hyperspace relay buoy Hux had developed for their shuttles would allow him to piggyback signals onto regular broadcast transmissions, effectively masking the communication and making it available only to those with the proper frequency decoder.  He had already been sent on numerous missions around the Outer and Mid Rim territories to deploy the devices, which required the finesse of timing that only a Force-user could employ.

After double-checking and satisfying himself that everything was in place, Kylo sealed the ship, took her up into the upper atmosphere, and ran the final calculations for the jump to Corellia.


	15. Chapter 15

_“Zeesha Graystone here again with QCN’s continuing coverage of the Starkiller protest.  Just moments ago, Ben Solo was seen exiting the hospital and presumably taking off in the First Order shuttle they arrived in.  Speculations are running high about where he might have gone, and we’ve put our best trackers on the trail.”_

_Footage of a cloaked and hooded man exiting toward the private hangars played, followed by a cut to the ship’s departure._

_“In the meantime, we have uncovered the reason the enemy ship was able to slip by Chandrila Orbital Defense in the first place.  Here is the audio record of the pilot, Poe Dameron’s, interaction with air traffic control:”_

_COD: Unidentified enemy shuttle, state your destination and transmit your ident codes and landing clearance now._

_Dameron: This is shuttle_ Voidstar _, requesting emergency landing at Hanna City Veteran’s Hospital, transmitting clearance now.  (Reacting to intercept flyby.)  Whoa, don’t shoot, man! We’re not the enemy! It’s been a long flight._

_COD: We have your transmission. Confirming now. Remain in holding and standby._

_(A longer than usual pause as the transmission is being confirmed.)_

_COD: This transmission is encrypted. Due to ComSec regulations, we will have to re-route it to the appropriate authorities. Continue holding. Deviation from holding will result in your shuttle being fired upon._

_Dameron: Listen, buddy, what part of ‘hospital’ and ‘emergency’ don’t you understand? I haven’t got time for this.  This is an emergency transport shuttle under clearance from—_

_COD: Set coordinates for 090.579. We’ll follow you in,_ Voidstar _._

_Dameron: Thank you._

_“Judging by the encrypted transmission, and the relative speed with which it was authorized, we can conclude that Dameron was indeed on a Resistance mission.  One can surmise from the ‘long flight’ that it likely originated from First Order space, perhaps Wild Space or the Unknown Regions.  The question remains as to how long this operation had been in the works and whether or not the Republic military was advised.”_

_Zeesha took a moment and then looked up, directly into the camdroid’s optical sensor._

_“The real question is: how deep do these connections with the First Order and our government and military run? With former Princess, now General Organa, having been revealed to be the direct descendant of Darth Vader; her son, Ben Solo, now thought to be intimately involved with General Hux; and with Republic supply officer, Lieutenant Commander Lydia Vitaan, having been identified as General Hux’s mother, one wonders about the safety and security of our society. How long do they intend to keep us in the dark? How many more of our politicians, military leaders, and operatives have ties to the First Order? My promise to you, viewers, is to find out.”_


	16. Chapter 16

Kylo set the shuttle down in a small spaceport in the Imperial Remnant safe zone of Coronet City, locking it down but leaving the vents open so it could air out some more while he went about his business.  He'd sent the necessary transmission, now all he had to do was wait.  

He stepped out into the evening light, breathing in the crisp air and the courage to do what needed to be done, when he was beset by a gang of children, alternately begging and trying to pickpocket him.  One tawny-haired urchin saw the lightsabers hanging from his belt and jumped back. "Stang! He's a Jedi! Run!"

"You dolt, there's no Jedi anymore!" Another said, turning back to Kylo without a hint of fear in her eyes. She put on a pitiable expression and whined, "Mister, you gonna give us some credits? We're awful hungry," reaching, as she said it, for one of the lightsabers.

"Not so fast," Kylo said, lifting her off her feet with a wave of his hand.

After a shocked pause, the others squeaked and bolted for the nearest alley. 

The girl shook in terror, though she persisted in kicking out and flailing her scrawny arms. She frowned and set her jaw.  "Put me down."

"If I do, will you stay put and stop trying to steal from me? I just want to ask you something."

She stopped struggling and considered. "Information costs things."

"Fair enough." Kylo set her down gently, watching her weigh her options.  She thought about running, but knew she wouldn't make it very far, and then he might get angry. And if he wasn't a Jedi, that could be bad. Very bad.

"So? Whaddaya want?"

Kylo smiled at her bravado. She was scared, but she was tough. "I need a guide through the Republic territories. Someone who knows their way around through, shall we say, less traveled paths. I'll pay."

"How much?"

His smile widened. _Savvy as well as brave_ _._ "Five hundred credits and a meal of your choosing when we get where we're going."

The dirt-smudged girl had a good sabacc-face, but her eyes widened a tad too much at that price and she knew that he'd seen it. There would be no bargaining for more.

"Ok.  _Maybe_ _._ " She narrowed her eyes again. "Where to?"

"General Solo's memorial."

 

* * *

 

 

The HoloStatue shimmered against the fading twilight and the twinkling lights of the buildings behind it. It depicted his father both in his prime, as Kylo had never really known him, and larger than life, which seemed more consistent with his memories.  His father's ego had always been a massive presence in his life, even when he was physically absent, as he often was.  

Kylo frowned at the sting that memory still brought.

He'd missed his father then -- hadn't understood why he couldn't stay put and wondered if it had been his fault, if his powers had really been as frightening to his parents as they had been to him -- and he missed him now.

Han had been right about Snoke, about Kylo, about it not being too late.  Now, in light of Hux's crimes and with his life on the line, Kylo understood how Han must have felt on that bridge.  Despite his fear, he'd loved his son to the very end.

Kylo's lip trembled and he knelt at the foot of the statue, his tears plinking down onto the golden epitaph.

_General Han Solo_

_Corellian born; famed smuggler and general serving the Rebel Alliance at the time of the Galactic War; known for making the Kessel Run in just 12 parsecs with the Millennium Falcon; responsible for the destruction of two Death Stars and Starkiller Base, where he met his end.  Han Solo died as he lived: saving those he loved._

"I'm sorry," he sniffled, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so sorry.  I killed you because I was afraid.  I really thought it was too late for me.  I thought you offered weakness when I needed strength.  I threw away the salvation you gave me in exchange for power, when all I really needed was a way out.  How could I have been so blind?"

“How, indeed, _Master?_ ” Contempt oozed from Palux’s tone.

Kylo whirled to see his knight towering above him, her tinted goggles and gray mask hiding any features that may have better indicated her state of mind.  He hadn’t been expecting their arrival for at least another twenty minutes.

“I sense much conflict in you, Master. Much more than usual. And more Light. Where is your rage?”

“Continue to needle me, Palux,” Kylo growled, standing up to face her, “and you’ll find out.” Her lack of respect rankled him, but he was angrier at himself for having let her sneak up on him.

“Yes, Ren,” she bowed her head in obeisance, though Kylo sensed mockery in the gesture. 

Kylo glared at her for a moment, feeling exposed and awkward without his own mask to hide behind anymore. “I didn’t expect you so soon.”

“I’ve been waiting here. I suspected you would come, sooner or later.  Supreme Leader thought so, too.”

Glowering at her, Kylo’s lip curled into a snarl.  This insubordination would not stand, but neither would an open fight within Republic territory.  “If you’ve come to challenge me, then _say so_.”

Her head tilted ever so slightly, and he swore he could sense her half-smile. “We’ll see.”

“What are you waiting for?”

“The others.”

Kylo sneered and stomped past her, brushing against her shoulder and pulling up his hood as he did, showing Palux that he wasn’t afraid to turn his back on her. He knew he should be more careful, but he was on his guard now.  This is what he’d expected, after all.  When he sent out the call to assemble, he knew that some, if not all, would turn against him if they sensed him straying from the Path, but he had to know who would remain loyal to him.

Kylo wound thorough the same backstreets and alleys he’d taken to get to the memorial, keeping his senses primed for any sign of betrayal as Palux followed behind.  Of all his knights, she had always been the most powerful.  And the most likely to rebel.  Kylo knew she was only doing her duty -- as the Observer, with the power of farseeing, it was her job to continually monitor the group for its balance and keep them on the Path of Ren -- but he wasn’t in the mood for her sinister, indirect games.

Once back at the starport, Kylo perched atop a stack of empty crates and took up a meditative pose.  He needed to be more aware of the Force than ever if their loyalties had shifted and he had to fight.  Still exhausted, the quiet moment helped him to rest and recover a bit of strength, as well as to extend his senses to feel for any distress Hux might be in.  For the time being, Hux drifted just outside of consciousness, at peace.

“You sense your lover,” Palux said from across the bay.  The sound of her voice kindled a spark of anger in him.

Kylo ignored her attempts to rile him.

“He is a weakness you should shed.”

He took a deep breath and held it.  His lip twitched, but he kept his mind clear of distractions.

“You are only fooling yourselves wi—”

“Enough!” he roared, the crates shifting as he leapt off, his lightsabers flaring to life in his hands.

Palux remained cross-legged on the ground and made no attempt to shield herself.  “Rid yourself of distractions, Master.  The Jedi were wise to—”

The hum of his swords drew closer to her head, casting hues of red and blue on either side of her face.  These blades were steady, without vents, unlike the guttering plasma of his previous lightsaber, though they thrummed with the same, barely constrained power.

Her smugness infuriated him, but he kept his voice low and calm.  “When I require your counsel, I will ask for it.”

She nodded again. “As you wish, _Master_.”

_That tone again—_

“Starting a fight without us, Palux?” Warobi chuckled, his deep, gravelly voice echoing from the tunnel.  The lumbering, battle-scarred knight, eldest among them, strode into the hangar followed by the remaining four warriors: Katara, the Silent One, Qel-Dur, the Judge, Mordak, the Keeper, and Motu, the Pardoner.

Kylo withdrew his blades and stood across from them, hoping he would not have to kill more of his family.

“The Master believes he has summoned us—” Palux began.

“—but it is we who have summoned the Master,” Mordak finished in his soft, sibilant trill.

Kylo’s skin prickled.  He knew better than to question the Keeper.  It was entirely possible that his desire to seek them out had been instigated by one of their arcane rituals.  “And why have you summoned me?”

*The balance must be kept.  A judgement must be made.  A debt must be paid.* Katara said in their minds.

“Truth,” said the Judge.

“I paid my debts.” Kylo growled. “I have kept the Path. I _am_ the Path. And you will prove you are loyal to me or you will die.”

Motu spoke, her calm whisper undercutting the tension. “There is no need for violence.”  She stepped toward Kylo, kneeling before him and reaching out to place her hand on his.  “It is not your debt of which we speak.”

The others followed suit, bending the knee to their master, though Kylo noticed Palux was the last to do so.  Motu kept her hands over his, sensing, in her way, the balance of his energy as the Judge stood still, his hand over the hilt of his saber, awaiting her word.

“Then whose?”

“He who promised us balance, but who seeks to destroy it.  He who offered you Darkness, then mired you in the Light.”

“Snoke,” Kylo hissed.

“He sought only to weaken you.  To claim you as he has others before, and in your guise to lead us.  He failed to see the hate that burns so deeply within you, its effulgence masquerading as Light.  You love, but your love makes you hate.  You take comfort, but only in pain.  You are in balance.  It is he who has sinned against the Path.  It is he who must pay.  But you have chosen him as your master.  Therefore, it is you who must decide.”

“Truth,” said the Judge.

Kylo nodded, understanding.  This family would not abandon him.

“Then, join me, and we will strike him down.”

“As you say, so shall it be.” They intoned as one.


	17. Chapter 17

Speeding once more through the hyperlanes, returning to his husband, Kylo felt the pressure lift from him as if ascending from a great ocean depth.  There was still much left to do, but communing with his Knights, reassuring himself that they stood to serve him, had granted him a small measure of relief.

He glanced at the arrival monitor.  _Thirty-two minutes to go. No reason I can’t get some shut-eye while I have the chance._

Kylo set the controls to auto-pilot, checked that the systems were all running smoothly, hefted himself from the pilot’s chair, and retired to the cargo hold.  He dropped into the bunk, thinking to himself that the fresh air on Corellia had done the interior some good, if not the sweat-stained mattress, when he caught the faint but distinct smell of dewflowers.

At first, he assumed it was merely an hallucination of his exhausted mind.  Recalling the sensation of burying his face in Hux’s freshly shampooed hair on their wedding night, breathing deeply of the soft, earthy scent as he kissed his husband’s neck, Kylo gasped and snapped awake.

The scent was here.  In this space.  _Now._

He sat up, looking around in a sleep-addled daze.  Most everything had been removed from the shuttle following their return to Chandrila.  Some of Hux’s hair still littered the deck, but upon closer inspection and another cautious sniff, Kylo determined that that wasn’t where the smell was coming from.  He returned to the bunk and lifted it. 

There, rolled into the corner behind an empty food crate, was a camdroid.  He almost lost his temper, then, ready to hurl the droid against the bulkhead and smash it, until he noticed it was a First Order model.  It was the one that had followed them, observing, then leading the way for their escape during Hux’s rescue aboard the _Finalizer_. 

Kylo gave it a sniff and frowned.  Whoever had handled it had washed themselves with his husband’s soaps.  The oils in the flowers lingered for weeks, and tended to get on everything one handled, as Hux had discovered too late for his own comfort.

The droid still had power, but had lost its ability to uplink this far away from its home terminal.  And, thanks to Hux, Kylo’s shuttle was equipped with special shielding to jam any unauthorized signals, so it should be safe to activate in hyperspace, where it couldn’t reconnect to any First Order satellites or update its programming.

All First Order droids had been programmed to obey officers.  Kylo assumed that included him. 

“Alright then. Let’s find out where you came from and what you’ve been up to.”

He powered up the little shiny black sphere, and input his authorization code upon its request.  As soon as it bleeped its acceptance, it activated a HoloProjection of a timid-looking First Order officer, wringing his hat in his hands as he spoke in a tremulous voice.

“Greetings, Commander,” Lt. Mitaka said, his eyes downcast. “I hope this message finds you well.  Hopefully, if you are seeing it, sir, then you’ve managed to rescue General Hux.”  Mitaka’s voice cracked upon speaking the name of his beloved general.  He fidgeted and sniffled, wiping his eyes and nose on his sleeve before continuing.  “You should know, sir, that this droid has been programmed to follow only your, or my, orders.  It contains a near complete visual and audio record of the atrocities committed against the general,” he took a deep breath, sucking in air as if he were drowning, then his voice hardened, taking on an edge Kylo had never heard from the cowering young man, “and a list I compiled of the names, ranks, and serial numbers of every traitor who observed, assisted, or assaulted him during your absence.  This is the only copy of this information.  Knowing that it will be safe in your hands, sir, I have destroyed all others to protect the dignity of the general.  Please contact me if it is convenient for you to do so, sir, as there is a battle in progress, as well as a mutiny, and Captain Phasma and I wish to keep informed of your whereabouts.  I can be reached on secure channel Aurek-523-Dorn-34-point-988427-double-Leth. Message repeats...”

Kylo sat, still as the singular mountain peak in Monument Plaza, for nearly a full minute.

He couldn’t decide what to do.

He didn’t want that knowledge.  That responsibility.

Once seen, he would never be able to cleanse his mind of those horrors.  He had felt it when it was happening, and seen its aftermath, but it was another thing altogether to witness it as it occurred.  No miracle of the Force could ever obliterate such infernal imagery.

But the burden should not be his husband’s to bear, alone.

And vengeance must be had.

Kylo stood on quaking legs and stumbled into the cockpit, the droid beeping a query behind him.  He ignored it and took the ship off auto-pilot, consulting his charts for the nearest, uninhabited moon or planet with a breathable atmosphere, and dropped out of hyperspace immediately.

Within minutes, he was soaring through the atmosphere of a rocky, desolate world with a mottled gray surface and purple sky.  The bulkheads shuddered as he set down faster than he should have through the light turbulence, and dropped the ramp at the same time as the landing struts.  He motioned for the droid to follow, stomping out onto the windy plateau.

He stood for a while, again considering the irreversible choice he was about to make.  Already the air around him hummed in expectation of violence.  Larger stones that hadn’t been dislodged by the stark gusts rose into the air and vibrated.

“Play it.”

The droid blatted its compliance, projecting the brutal images of Hux’s suffering into the dust at his feet.

Trying to distance himself from what he was seeing, he focused on the technical aspects.  At first, the holograms were grainy, faded like the old gray-blue HoloVids of his youth.  They had been taken from different security cameras and compiled here for completion’s sake.  If there was any accompanying audio to these, Kylo couldn’t hear it over the sound of the wind.  Perhaps it would become clearer once it cut to what had been recorded via the camdroid’s optic and audio sensors.

He watched, silent and unmoving, as Hux was dragged from Snoke’s audience chamber between two Stormtroopers.  His eyes, closed; nose, bloody; mouth, gagged; perfect hair, disheveled; pristine uniform, mottled with blood and sick.  The troopers waiting outside forced him to his knees, beat him, and ripped away his tunic.

The ground at Kylo's feet rumbled.

Kylo’s breath caught in his throat when Hux pulled free and dashed forward, aiming for two officers who’d stopped to stare.  A small, desperate whine escaped him at Hux’s bid for freedom, a plea for some twist of fate to intervene and allow his husband to get away, even though he already knew how this tragedy ended.

He couldn’t stand seeing Hux’s limp, twitching form drop from the stun blast, or how the Stormtroopers manhandled him into position to strip the rest of his dignity away as each piece of his clothing was flung to the floor. 

And yet, he couldn’t look away.

Kylo didn’t remember falling to his knees, but at some point in the hour or so of degradations that played out before him he’d dropped to the ground, clawing at the dirt for some kind of purchase, something to root him to the reality around him and take him away from this nightmare.

The footage _had_ become clearer.  Painfully detailed.  With audio.

His whole body shook, losing its ability to keep hold of the rage that threatened to boil him from the inside out.  He ordered the camdroid to skip ahead, faster and faster, periodically pausing to stare in horror at the sight of some unbelievable barbarity or another, or to vomit at the heartbreaking, depraved violations that wrenched such desperate cries from Hux no matter how hard he struggled to stay silent.

Every time Hux resisted, losing strength with each futile struggle, or fought to keep his face that expressionless mask that so often hid his pain, another strangled whimper clawed its way out of Kylo’s throat.

“Droid,” he hissed through teeth that had nearly cracked under the strain of his clenched jaw, “excluding the message at the beginning, how long is the recording?”

“<280 hours, 47 minutes, and 39 seconds, master.>”

Swallowing against the sting of the rising bile in his throat, he asked the droid to review the contents, “And this torture… continues… the entire time?”

After a few seconds the droid responded in the affirmative.

He retched again, crumpled over in the gritty dirt, heaving and clutching at his sides in despair.  There was nothing left for him to disgorge.  Nothing inside him at all but a gnawing emptiness left behind by the all-consuming fury that burned away everything else.  He’d only seen a mere hour of the footage, and already his husband had been mocked, beaten, stabbed, slashed, humiliated, shocked, whipped, poisoned, burned, and raped so many times Kylo had lost count.

He didn’t even have the right to be angry about it.  He had felt the shadow of Hux’s pain, but none of this had happened to him. 

It had happened _because_ of him. 

That realization only served to further weaken the chains that bound his demonic rage.  Guilt swirled in to join the anguish that had been begging for release for weeks, finally crawling up from the knotted pit of his stomach and ripping free in an agonized wail.  As he pushed himself up, the cry swelled in intensity, from a haunting lament of despair to a shriek of pure hatred. 

It wasn’t enough. There wasn’t a sound in the universe that could express the depth of his grief. 

The ground split open, fractures spreading out, chasing his anger.

Still screaming, he launched himself at the nearest rock formation -- a beautiful twist of stone, hollowed and shaped by centuries of wind -- and cleaved it in half with a single stroke of his lightsabers.  As the pillar fell, he spun and sliced through it two more times.  There was no finesse to his attack.  None of his usual grace.  Just a frenzy of motion directed by torment and the release of a raw, dark power too long restrained.

The stones offered no resistance to his rage-driven barrage.  Molten rock sizzled against the ground, spitting past him as he lashed out at every boulder and spire in sight.  He would have imagined it as the blood of those who had dared to harm Hux, but Kylo was too far gone in animalistic hysteria to think about anything at all.

When all available targets had been obliterated he whirled on the droid, but a flicker of reason stopped him before he could obliterate it. 

He would need this information later.

He could hardly raise his arms anymore, having exhausted himself in his destructive rampage, so Kylo leaned into the howling winds, letting the gales steal away his torment as he screamed himself hoarse.  His voice cracked and grated from his throat, as frayed as the edges of his cloak, his mouth as dry and bitter as the ashes of his anger.  He swayed on his knees, feeling like a burnt-out husk that could blow away at any moment.

Much as he would prefer to shatter and disperse on the wind, he couldn’t stay like this forever.  Hux would be going into surgery in less than three hours.

It required a monumental effort to get to his feet, collect his lightsabers, and shuffle back into the ship.  Panting, he leaned against the bulkhead.  The camdroid hovered in and beeped a question.  Kylo only caught half of it.

“Just… go over to the bunk and deactivate.  I’ll recharge you later,” he rasped.

The orb complied, setting down and turning itself off.  After a few minutes, Kylo sat beside it and opened it up, removing its datachip and inserting it into his own personal datapad, where it would be safer.  Focusing on what he had to get done helped take his mind off the revolting flashes of gore that continued to float in his vision.  He’d stared into the blazing horror of all nine Hells, and the afterimages were burned into his retinas forever.  His fingers felt fat and clumsy, detached from his body.  He tried to concentrate on what he was doing, but he felt as if he’d set himself on auto-pilot, numbly observing as his body moved through the pre-flight sequence step-by-step. 

The shuttle was in the air again, roaring through the atmosphere and into the silence of space before he realized he’d even taken off.  A few slaps to his face made him feel slightly more tangible, but not much more in control.  Resetting the coordinates for Chandrila he managed to make it into hyperspace again without ending up in a star or down the maw of a black hole, so he could at least be thankful for that.

He sank back into the pilot’s seat, still shaking from exhaustion, but he had one last task to complete before he could attempt to rest.  Kylo entered the code for Mitaka’s secure comm channel, and relayed his transmission through the coded transceiver he’d attached to the hyperspace buoy earlier. 

The lieutenant picked up after only two beeps.

“Commander! Sir! It’s such a relief to finally hear from you. How… How is the general?”

“Recovering,” Kylo rasped.

“That’s good to hear,” he replied, struggling to keep the boyish excitement from his voice, “We really need him here, sir. Captain Phasma has taken command of the _Absolution_ , and Captain Peavey is in charge of the _Finalizer_ at the moment, but the Killiks, they’ve—”   

Kylo would have yelled -- _They_ needed _him? After everything they’d done to him? How dare they even…_ \-- but his earlier outburst had drained all his energy. “Listen.  I don’t have much time.  I need you to do something for me, Lieutenant.”


	18. Chapter 18

Kylo returned just as Anan and Emlii were preparing for Hux’s OR bath.  He hung his cloak in the personal locker designated for Hux’s belongings and felt another twinge of guilt.  The locker was otherwise empty.  Hux had no belongings to store.  He had nothing here.  Or anywhere.

He would have to go out and buy some clothes for him the next chance he could get.

After washing up and standing under the sonic shower and antiseptic field for a few moments to clean and sterilize his clothing, he entered.  Kylo hadn’t seen his face since having boarded his ship for the return trip, but from the looks Lydia and the nurses gave him, he looked as bad as he felt.

“Are you ok? What happened?” Lydia asked, taking his hand in hers as he sat down beside her.

“Yeah, I—” he mumbled, not sure if he wanted to tell anyone else that the recording existed. “I’m... it’s fine. How is he?”

Lydia gave him a sympathetic smile and patted his hand. “He’s alright. He hasn’t woken up since you left.  The doctor came in earlier to check him over and said he’ll be strong enough for the surgery today.”

“Would you like to take over?” Anan asked Kylo, knowing his preference for doing anything that involved touching Hux intimately.

“Yes. Please.”

The Twi’lek nodded and let Emlii explain what she needed them to do and how this bath was different from the others, more thorough because they had to be sure every part of him, even the bed, was as clean as possible to reduce the chance of infection during and after the surgery.

They worked in silence, the solemnity of the occasion broken only by an occasional request from Emlii for Kylo to help move Hux into another position.  As the bandages peeled away, Kylo and Lydia followed with their washcloths, exercising caution and profound gentleness near the ragged edges of his wounds.  Hux’s bruised skin seemed so delicate, as easily damaged as wet paper, though it had withstood so much abuse.  That his husband was so much stronger than he looked, Kylo had always known; he hadn’t needed that belief reinforced by such cruelty. 

This was the first time Lydia had seen many of her son’s injuries up close.  The terrible, empty hole in his face where one of his beautiful eyes had once been; the way the synthflesh patches over his burns had dried and curled up at the edges because the infections rampaging through his body had prevented them from taking; the way his cheekbones stood out in stark relief under his wan flesh.

Lydia’s voice, rough with restrained grief, barely rose above a whisper. “He’s so thin.”

Kylo ran the cloth over the recesses around Hux’s collarbones as he watched the rise and fall of his chest.  Each forced breath expanded his poor, fractured ribs, which strained against the already taut skin like the roots of a wind-swept tree grasping at a rocky precipice.  Swallowing against the dryness in his mouth and the persistent images of the torture he’d just witnessed, Kylo murmured, “They starved him.”

“I know,” she sniffled, carefully supporting the break in Hux’s arm as she cleaned around it. “I just meant… he always looked so much bigger, so much more imposing on those HoloVids.  In his speeches.  He was so… frightening.  So confident.”

“You saw those?” Kylo looked at her, surprised.

Lydia hummed in acknowledgement. “I looked for him for so long.  After his father stole him from me, I spent years, ten long years, before I finally gave him up for dead.  And one day, almost ten years after that, while tracking down supplies we thought had been lost in a First Order raid, I came across a propaganda reel.  I thought it might contain evidence of the theft, that they’d be gloating over their victory, so I watched it.”  She exhaled sharply, the pain of having seen her boy filled with such vitriol like a knife to her chest.  “It was something else entirely.  They’d liberated one of the internment camps -- I thought they’d disbanded those years before -- and he was screaming about the tyranny of the Republic. He… I… I didn’t want to believe it, but I knew it was him.”  Her voice wavered.  “I knew then… I knew his father must have done such horrible things to him.  Broken him.  Changed him.  He was never like that before.  No one will ever know how kind he was.  How curious and gentle and bright.  He was so… he had so much promise.  And now…” 

She stopped to swipe at her tears and compose herself.

Kylo flushed with shame, remembering how he’d thought of Hux when they’d first met.  The haughty, ginger bastard glaring down his nose at Kylo, a look of unbridled disdain on his face.  He’d exuded arrogance.  Smug assurance that nonetheless disguised a deep fear that his lofty position would be usurped by this roughshod, gangly youth with supposedly “magical” powers.  This so-called “Jedi Killer” who was nothing more than Organa’s pampered man-child.  The prince of a dead planet and heir to a dead religion.

He’d bristled at those thoughts floating around the forefront of the handsome redhead’s mind.  How dare he assume Kylo had had anything _easy_ in his life, when he’d no doubt been the one coddled and preened from birth into this ridiculous peacock of an officer whose soft, manicured hands had likely not carried a weapon outside of a parade ground.

Kylo hadn’t known -- then, or for a long time after -- how much Hux had already suffered to be where he was.  In truth, Kylo hadn’t thought much about anyone but himself in many, many years.  But Hux had been a child once, the same as him, struggling to find and be true to himself in a world of adults who wanted to crush them with the weight of their expectations. 

He reached out to put a hand on Lydia’s.  “You were there for him,” Kylo whispered, blinking back his own tears. “Even if it was only a little while, you showed him that it was possible to love and to be loved. That’s something, at least. If it hadn’t been for you, he might not ever have allowed me in.”

Lydia considered that, and, not really sure she wanted to hear the answer, asked, “Do you think he’ll remember me?”

“I don’t know,” Kylo answered, honestly. “He’s never talked about you, but then again he's never said anything about his childhood, anyway.” He shrugged. “As much as I hate to admit it sometimes, he _does_ have a perfect memory. I doubt he’d have forgotten you.”

She nodded, took a deep breath, and concentrated on trimming Hux’s nails, which had grown quite long.  The scruff along his jaw had grown longer as well, and Kylo realized that, until his rescue, he’d never seen Hux with any sort of facial hair before.  Normally, Hux shaved every day; twice, if he had any sort of special meeting or presentation to make later in his shift.  His obsession with cleanliness bordered on the pathological, but now Kylo wondered how much of it had to do with his father.  Kylo had seen images of Brendol before, and he always seemed to sport either muttonchops or a full beard.  He wondered if it would be alright to give Hux a shave.  Even if Hux wasn’t conscious of it, Kylo wanted him to be as comfortable as possible.

He asked Emlii.

“Well, normally we wouldn’t want to before a surgery.  If he got nicked, it’s just another possible vector for infection.  But since the surgery’s less than a few hours from now, I don’t see why not.  It should be ok.  Do you need anything?”

“No, it’s alright. I can use my kit.”

He started to get up, but hesitated at the nurse’s hissed intake of breath. Looking at her in confusion, he waited for her to explain.

“I… I’m not sure that would be wise at this juncture. He…” she pulled out her datapad and consulted his charts. “He hasn’t gotten all of the results back on his blood tests, yet. But there is reason to suspect he may have contracted a number of highly transmissible infections.”

“I thought he was already being treated for those.” Kylo frowned.

“Yes, but, to be on the safe side… for example, STID wouldn’t become detectable for another week or so.”

Kylo blinked at her, unwilling to consider that Hux could have contracted a lifelong, incurable illness on top of everything else that had transpired.  “He’s only 34.”

It was a stupid argument -- disease was no respecter of age -- but Kylo couldn’t imagine the lifetime of immunotherapy medicines and treatments Hux would have to endure, or the further stress it would put on their relationship, if it were true.

Emlii had heard a lot of strange things said in moments of denial, but she didn’t know how to respond to that, so she patted his arm and said, “I’m sorry.  I’ll send for someone to bring up a razor.”

Kylo nodded and slumped back into his chair.  He wanted to cry, to scream -- _Will the universe ever just leave him be?_   _Enough, already!_ \-- but he only squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head at the injustice of it all.  He didn’t care how many people Hux had killed -- well, that wasn’t entirely true; he _did_ care, but -- he didn’t deserve all of _this_.  With a heavy sigh, he picked up a clean cloth from the washbasin and finished bathing his husband.

He was just smoothing down the last bandage when Lydia spoke up.

“Thirty-five.”

“What?”

“He’s thirty-five now.”

Kylo felt the heat of embarrassment on his cheeks, but he was already too red and puffy from crying for it to be as obvious as it felt.  In any case, he’d forgotten that she could probably sense it through the Force. 

Lydia smiled, amused as he tumbled through those thoughts. "You didn't know?"

"No, I— He never told me.  I was never very good with dates and things, anyway. He's the one who remembers all the details like that. I never understood why someone like him wouldn't want it shouted to the stars." Kylo chuckled, but stopped when it hit him, "The day Starkiller Base..."

"Yes."

"Why in all the stars—" 

 _Empire Day._   Hux had always seemed more confident, more assertive on Empire Day.  He hadn't needed to celebrate his birthday; the whole galaxy was celebrating it, in one form or another.  The dark cloud of the full implications settled over him.  The symbolism and message to the Republic became clear, too. For the Republic, Empire Day had been re-purposed as Liberation Day: the day they had overthrown the Empire.  Hux had played the same gambit as Palpatine, intending the glorious rise of the Order and the destruction of the Republic on the most sacred of the two factions' days.  It was a shrewd political and military move, calculated to simultaneously build and destroy morale, depending on whose side one fell, but it was also intended to commemorate a more personal victory.  "Oh. Oh, Tage... No..."

Kylo had understood the need for the weapon, though he had disapproved of the concept in general. Killing was, and should be, personal.  Up close.  When it had to be done, one should feel the full weight of the life one ended.  Only then could one be sure of one's convictions.

Hux knew of his objections, but Kylo hadn't had much chance, between battles, to speak to him about it.  He'd been off on the Finalizer, witnessing the destruction of Hosnian Prime firsthand and preparing for the attack and extraction on Takodana.  Later, when he and Hux had convened once more before Snoke, Kylo had sensed a change in Hux -- a small flutter of nervousness' bordering on insecurity, which he covered in his usual way, lashing out and blaming their setback on Kylo.  Hux had been right, though; he had been far too focused on his sister to see the bigger picture, and it had cost them one of their largest bases of operations.

Even though he'd been distracted, he'd stood in shocked silence as Hux argued with the Supreme Leader.  It wasn't the first time Hux had had the gall to disagree with Snoke, but it was the first time he'd sensed real fear, and something like regret in Hux's demeanor.  Though he'd later been devastated, numbed by the loss of his life's work, Kylo had also detected a hint of relief in him.

It wasn't until he'd fired the weapon that the full weight of what he'd wrought upon the galaxy had begun to settle over him, but now, Kylo had no doubt, Hux was horrified by what he'd done.

Hux had spent his entire life in pursuit of power -- _no, in pursuit of the safety he thought that power would bring_ \-- and had stood, silent and still, watching in helpless awe and terror as the ultimate expression of that power ripped any chance of security apart as easily as it disintegrated the Hosnian System.

Kylo, too, understood the crushing pain of such an irreversible failure.

One of the nurses returned with a razor.  It wasn't up to Hux's standards, but it would have to do.  At least Kylo could use his own brush and cream without fear of contracting any infections.  He shook his head again at that.  _No, we’ll deal with that when…_ if _it comes._   Grabbing a small basin from the shelf, he whisked the shaving cream into a thick foam and observed as Emlii unlatched the neck brace and carefully removed it.

Hux’s head lolled to the left -- the direction his neck had been twisted against the pillar during his torture -- as soon as the brace no longer supported it.  Lydia reached out to steady him, cupping the base of his skull as Emlii peeled the tape up from around all the tubing and Kylo gently worked the lather over his jaw.  It took much longer than Kylo anticipated; though he was adept with a variety of blades, he wasn’t used to doing this for someone else.  Even so, he managed to apply just enough pressure to stroke away the orange bristles without cutting him.  Kylo smiled as the more familiar sight of Hux’s smooth face returned to him.

Hux might even have been satisfied with his work.

He patted him down gently with a warm, damp cloth and helped Emlii re-secure the brace.

“I bet that will feel better,” Emlii smiled as she snapped the last strap into place.  “He looks more like himself already.”

The transfer team brought in the hoverbed to take Hux to his next surgery, and Lydia, seeing no more need to hide the extent of her Force powers, helped Kylo situate Hux on the new bed. When they finished, Kylo brushed his fingertips along Hux's jawline and leaned over to kiss his forehead.  "We'll get through this, love. You'll be alright."

He started to follow the team out, but Lydia took him by the arm.  "You should rest. I'll watch out for him."

"But, can you sense him coming around fast enough? What if he—"

"It's alright.  I've got this.  Get your sleep."

Kylo nodded and watched her go.  He helped Emlii strip the sheets and sanitize the bed before slumping down onto his own.  The last thing he felt before he drifted off was her draping a warm blanket over him.


	19. Chapter 19

_> >You could make all our problems go away.  No one would even know.  It’s an easy enough thing to miss.<<_

The note sat on Dr. Borovia’s desk, glowing up at her from her datapad.  She had never imagined that just three short lines could stir such controversy in the soul.

Attached to the message was a snapshot of a First Order medical file, dated 6 years ago.  There was no name or other identifying information associated with the file -- it had all been redacted -- but she knew to whom it belonged.  She had cross-checked the snippet of the genetic profile to be sure, but she already knew the moment she’d opened the message and seen the highlighted bits of data.  It belonged to General (then, Colonel) Hux.

Six years ago Colonel Hux had been diagnosed with a severe case of Csillian flu.  The disease was prevalent in the winter months on the Chiss homeworld and in the close quarters of battleships and other long-term, crowded habitats.  To a Chiss, it would cause no more than a week’s discomfort: headache, joint pains, general malaise, runny nose, a combination of fever and chills, all the typical symptoms of a bad cold.  But, in humans, Csillian flu could introduce fatal rewrites in an individual’s genetic code, causing the kidneys, heart, liver, lungs, and/or spleen to degrade over time.  A complete genetic profiling was required, post-recovery, to ensure that no adverse changes had occurred in the patient. 

Based on this scan, Colonel Hux was cleared and returned to duty two standard weeks after contracting the disease.  No changes had been detected.

The problem with that, Dr. Borovia knew, was that the screening only looked for deviations from the original code.  It did not look at the original code itself.

In growing a new liver and kidneys for the general, Dr. Borovia had gone over his genetic makeup with a fine, Alderaanian comb.  Most beings didn’t get a chance to start over with new organs, but when they did, she liked to give people a fresh start.  It didn’t take much extra work to clear out all genetic predispositions for mutation, deformation, and/or disease and treat the patient via retroviral gene therapy following implantation, so that those conditions would not re-assert themselves upon the new, clean organs. 

Upon beginning a drip of precursor drugs for the general, her usual, thorough process had led her to what this mysterious informant had discovered, several days prior to receiving the message.  

Hux’s liver had been in top shape before he had endured his prolonged torture.  It was clear to her that he’d rarely, if ever, imbibed alcohol or similar intoxicants.  The general's spleen had nearly been ruptured, but that was a physical manifestation of the beatings he'd received, not genetic, so there was nothing she could do for it but let him rest and heal.

His kidneys, on the other hand, showed that he carried a genetic predisposition for Quannot’s Syndrome.  The rapid changes in his body due to the acute distress it had been placed under had activated the onset of the symptoms, though they had been masked by his other injuries.

It was a death sentence.  Not an immediate one, but a prolonged, painful, and debilitating one.  Rumor had it that the Emperor himself had been diagnosed with the disease, and had attempted to prolong his life via organ replacement from dubious sources.  Too bad it hadn’t taken him before he’d taken the lives of billions.

Too bad it hadn’t taken Hux.

She could have left it there.  She’d thought about leaving it there.  A silent retribution from the universe for his crimes.  She could have regrown his organs as they always had been and transplanted them to save his life in the immediate term.  She could have transplanted the cleansed organs and left off on the gene therapy that would have ensured they stayed clean.  Either choice would have technically fulfilled her ethical responsibilities to her patient.  She was under no obligation to treat him for that particular illness.  At least, not until it had been pointed out to her.

Quannot’s Syndrome _was_ an easy thing to miss, particularly under these circumstances.   She hadn’t, but until that message appeared in her inbox, she could have pretended to.  He deserved no less for the things he’d done, and the things he would likely do if he somehow escaped Republic justice.

But, now, someone else knew that she knew.

Now, she would be culpable for his death if she failed to act.

The paradox intrigued her.  If they had wanted her to kill him by this act of malicious omission, they’d have done better not to have said anything at all.  She had six copies of each organ to choose from, and two of them had been grown before she had caught the flaw.  They had remained in stasis for comparison’s sake, but they were otherwise serviceable and there was nothing stopping her from using them.  Nothing but her own sense of morality and duty to her profession.

Nurse Rol pinged her comm to inform her that his crew was signing out, the transfer team had successfully prepped and transported her patient, and that the day shift had arrived and was standing by.

Time was up.

Dr. Borovia deleted the message and its attachments from her datapad, and left her office to scrub in.


	20. Chapter 20

Cold.  Dark. 

_So… hard to... think… to move. I can't..._

Fear.  Pain, creeping into the darkness.

A distant buzzing.

_I can't move._

Something rigid around his neck.  Tight.  Choking.  Flashes of so many unwanted memories.  Hands, everywhere.  Around his throat. 

Panic.

_I can’t breathe! Can’t open my eyes! I can’t see!_

“Tage, are you awake? Can you hear me? It’s alright. You’re in a hospital. Do you remember? You’re safe.”

That buzzing.  A voice.  Familiar.

_…Kylo? Help me! I can’t move! Please! My throat! There’s something—! Can’t breathe! Can’t talk! Can’t—!_

"It’s ok.  I can hear you.  Don’t try to talk; just think.  You’re on a ventilator, that’s why you can’t talk.  Don’t fight it.  Let it breathe for you.  You’re safe, Tage.  Try to stay calm."

_But, I—!_

"Shh… It’s ok.  You’re in a hospital.  Just relax.  I’m right here.  I won’t let anyone hurt you."

Sounds, fading in over the rush of blood in his ears: the quiet beep of machines, the rhythmic hiss of the respirator.

So much pain.  Nausea.

_I’m—I think I’m going to be sick!_

His husband’s voice, still so far away, “Anan? He’s awake again. He needs something for the pain and the nausea.” And, suddenly, bright and clear in his head, *Try to relax, Tage.  You’re gonna be ok.*

_…Again? I don’t remember… What’s in my throat? This thing! It’s— Take it out, please! I’m going to— I can’t—!_

*Tage, focus on me.  It’s just the breathing tube.  I know it’s uncomfortable, but you need it to breathe right now, while the drugs are still paralyzing you.  Try not to think about it.  I’m going to touch your face, ok?  It’s me.  Can you feel it?*

A touch.  A surge of fear.  A hand.  Large.  Warm.  Kylo’s.  Safe.

*There, is that ok? I’m right here.*

Faint beginnings of comfort.  Terror clinging to the desire to move.  Fear of vomiting.  Choking.

_Yes… but, I—I can’t move. Why can’t I move? I can’t even open my eyes. What’s around my neck?_

*Just focus on my hand.  There you go.  Just like that.  Good.*

The soft pad of Kylo’s thumb coaxed away a little bit of his anxiety each time it stroked over his eyebrow.

Kylo’s mental tone remained calm and even.  *You’re not going to choke.  You’re ok.  What you’re feeling is a brace around your neck and the breathing tube for the ventilator.  You’ve been paralyzed so that they don’t have to restrain you.  The poisons in your system make it wear off sometimes, but you need it right now, so don’t fight it. The doctors need you to stay still.  You’ve been through a lot of surgeries, and there are still a few more to go.  They don’t want you to hurt yourself.  Just relax.  You’re safe here.*

A strange voice. A man’s. Not quite as low as his husband's, but also with the twang of a Republic accent. “How is he?”

The sound of footsteps, soft, drawing near.  Anxiety rising again.

Kylo’s deep, calming resonance, somewhat ameliorating the fear. “He’s aware; he can hear us but he’s worried about not being able to move.  The tubes and the pain are making him feel nauseous.”  Again, in his head, *The nurse is here.  It’s gonna be ok.  He’s not going to hurt you; he’s been taking good care of you.  He’s giving you more painkiller now, and something to help with the nausea.*

Warm relief spreading outward from his chest.  Pain retreating to a dull beat.  Floating.  Still afraid, but so exhausted.

*That’s it.  Try to relax.  You’re safe now.  I’m right here.  I’m not going anywhere.* 

_How... how long have I--?_

*You've been here for about a week already.*

_A week!_

“General Hux?” The nurse’s voice sounded soft, soothing, not at all cold and detached as he’d expected. “I’m Anan Rol. I'm the head nurse in charge of your care.  I'm going to check your eye and change some of your bandages.  After that, I'll check the placement of the breathing and feeding tubes to make you more comfortable if I can. The light will be bright but only for a few seconds.  If you feel any discomfort, Ben will let me know, so just try to relax.”

_Ben? Who’s… Oh, right..._

He felt a hint of laughter in his head, chasing that thought.

Kylo’s hand pulled away, replaced by fingers that peeled his sticky eyelids apart, revealing a swath of mounded snow -- _How did I get back to the base? No... Starkiller is gone.  Not snow.  Sheets._   _I’m in a hospital._ \-- and a contrasting mass of grays to his left.  _Kylo!_ His vision was too blurry to make out any details, and before he could focus a blinding light shone directly into his pupil, leaving behind a bright blue blur.  He felt, more than saw, a few drops of some thick, cool liquid drip into his eye and panic leapt into his throat in anticipation of pain, though none came.  His eyelids fell shut again, leaving him in darkness save for the hovering afterimage of the light.  No matter how hard he strained, he could not open them.  He wished he could see Kylo.  Just hearing his thoughts wasn’t quite enough to convince him that this was real.  This could all just be another hallucination, or Snoke in his head again, or the neurons in his brain firing off the thing he most wanted to see just before he died.

*It’s real, Tage.  I’m here.  You’re not dying.*

He felt strong hands lifting his head and a release of pressure as some of the bandages around his face were unwound. Something swabbed around his other eye and seemed to press inward, past where his eye should have been. There was no pain, but an uncomfortable and nauseating pressure persisted.

_What happened to my eye?_

Hux could hear the hesitation in Kylo's mental voice, *You don't remember?*

He already felt ill, and thought it best not to seek out the memory if it had been traumatic enough for his brain to block it in the first place.

 _No_.

Kylo didn't respond for some time, but Hux felt the welcome warmth of his palm against his cheek again and tried to focus on that sensation instead.  He felt so weak and tired, ashamed of his lack of control, but every time he started to drift off, panic tightened his chest and his attention returned to the too-regular breaths bending his ribs into arcs of fire, and the discomfort of the respirator tube.

*It's ok, you can go to sleep.  You're safe now.  I'll stay right here.*

_No! I can't sleep! You don't understand! They'll— they'll—_

*It's ok, love.  You’re not there anymore.  You’re here, in the hospital, with me.  There’s no one else here except me and the nurse.  You're safe.  You can sleep.*

_I can't! I still— I can't breathe! It's not enough air!_

"You look worried; is he ok? General, am I hurting you?"

"He still feels like he can't breathe. Like he’s not getting enough air."

Anan finished re-dressing Hux's eye and carefully repositioned his head in the brace. "Intubation is usually disorienting and uncomfortable, but the line might be clogged up again; you’ve still got a pretty bad infection in your lungs.  I'll scan you to see if it needs suctioning or if the tubing got knocked out of position somehow. Try to stay calm. When you panic, the machine can’t keep up with your oxygen needs as well."

“Tage, did you hear that?”

Kylo’s voice came to him as if through a long corridor.  Hux could feel Snoke’s ghostly talons around his throat again, slowly squeezing the life out of him.

_Help me, Kylo! Please! He’s killing me! I… can’t…_

*Tage? Tage, you’re ok. You’re safe. It’s not Snoke; it’s just the brace.*

Hux’s skin had gone clammy, but his forehead was burning hot.  His temperature had spiked again, and the feeling of being unable to breathe on his own fed into his hallucinations.

Kylo’s mind flooded with nightmare images of the things they’d done to Hux whenever he’d tried to sleep -- plucking at his exposed bones, injecting him with poisons, peeling scabs off older wounds and digging through them or cauterizing them, zapping him with their riot batons, burning his feet with a plasma torch and forcing him to stand, pressing in on his ribs one by one until they snapped -- and over all of it the sickening feeling of Snoke’s presence, slithering into his most private humiliations and dragging them into his consciousness so that he could find no escape, even in fevered dreams.

Kylo pulled his connection back for a moment, reeling from the projected pain and terror.  After a few deep breaths to keep his rage in check, Kylo said to the now-very-concerned nurse, “It’s his fever, I think.  He’s seeing the… things they did to him when he’d try to sleep.  He’s going to have to be given more sedatives, or he won’t be able to fall asleep, but they’ll also cause him to panic.”

The nurse nodded, seeing the jump in his patient’s heart-rate on the monitor, “I’ll be quick then.” He leaned in to speak to Hux, his voice still soft but urgent, “General, there’s a blockage in your airway that I’m going to have to suction out.  I’m sorry.  There shouldn’t be any pain, but this is going to be uncomfortable.  You may feel like you’re going to be sick, or that you’re choking; that’s normal.  You’ll be ok.  Try to relax, it will be over quickly.  I’m going to go ahead and put you under again so it won’t be as bad.”

He tapped a few buttons on the monitor to release the sedative into Hux’s system. Holding the scanner in one hand, he deftly guided a smaller line through the center of the breathing tube, observing its progress on the display.  Hux didn’t move, couldn’t, but tears poured from the corner of his eye.

 _Kylo! Help me! Please!_ Something moved in his chest, pushing, pulling, sucking out what little air he was already getting.  He tried to cough but his muscles didn’t respond.  Certain he was going to vomit and choke to death, he panicked.  _Please! I can’t breathe!_

Already, Hux’s mental voice sounded more distant.  Kylo prayed the sedatives would work faster; he hated feeling the nauseating fear that plagued Hux’s mind and seeped into his.  *You’re ok.  Just listen to my voice.  You’re not there; you’re in the hospital.  The nurse is just clearing out the obstruction in your lungs.   It’ll be over soon.*

The gurgling, sucking sound stopped with a thick _glorp_ as the nurse got whatever was clogging the tube out of the way.  He withdrew the suction line quickly and checked to see that Hux was getting the proper amount of oxygen.

“That should do it for now. How is that? General, is that better?”

_I’m dying, Kylo… so cold… it’s…_

Kylo pulled the blankets up over Hux’s shoulders, using extreme caution not to jar any of the multitude of things attached to him, and wiped away his tears.  “He’s _—_ he’ll be ok, I think.  He’s just so... afraid to sleep.”  With the backs of his fingers, Kylo continued to stroke Hux’s cheek.  *You’re not dying.  It’s just the sedatives.  Sleep, love, I promise no one will hurt you.  You’re safe here.*

An overwhelming surge of despair and terror slammed into Kylo’s consciousness.

_I... I love you._

Kylo's heart ached at that small, desperate confession.  Hux had never actually said those words to him before.  Not even at their wedding.  He had promised _to_ love him, until such time as they were eternally bound in the unity of the Force, but he'd never expressed his feelings to Kylo so directly.  Hux really believed he was dying, and the fact that he expected those to be his last words crushed Kylo. 

The ache deepened as he followed Hux’s thoughts further down into his internal oblivion: terror darkened every fleeting thought, not just the fear of falling asleep.  Hux worried that, even though he had said it, he didn’t really know what love meant.  No matter the deep secrets of the universe that he’d pried open with his scientific mind, the anguish that he had never really understood love or given enough of himself to Kylo persisted until all thought finally faded.

*I love you, Tage.  You will always be enough for me.  Rest, now.  I’ll keep you safe.*


	21. Chapter 21

_"Zeesha Graystone, for Queen of the Core Network, here with more updates from our source inside Hanna City Veterans' Hospital, where the Starkiller himself, General Armitage Hux, is recovering from what we have now been told was extensive torture, whether at the hands of the Resistance, the Republic, or even the First Order we do not yet know.  It’s been quite a while since our last news update, but today we have several interesting stories to report.  The first is perhaps best shown and not told, so let's cut right to it:”_

_Another grainy, clandestine scene appeared, this shot from behind General Organa as she argued with two well-dressed men and a woman.  The sound cut in mid-conversation._

_"—presence is a continued danger to those seeking treatment here."_

_"Moving him now could kill him in his current condition," Leia said in a clipped voice. "Unless of course that's what you're hoping for. I can't help but notice your list of alternative hospitals includes only those on planets that still allow capital punishment. But, that’s just a coincidence, surely?"_

_"With all due respect, General, this hospital's ethical responsibility to General Hux ended after the completion of his last surgery.  We have a responsibility to all our patients' safety and well-being and we cannot allow the presence of one to affect the lives of so many others."_

_Leia's shoulders pulled back and her posture straightened in a way that made her seem far more intimidating than someone of her stature would allow._

_"With all due respect, Directors," her tone hovered on the very edge of politeness, "your responsibility to General Hux extends until his discharge, and I have serious doubts that any of his doctors would be willing to discharge him at this time, even for a transfer."_

_"Well see about that."_

_"Need I remind you? This is a military hospital, and as he is now to stand trial before a military tribunal, you have a duty to make sure he is capable of doing so." Having said her piece, she turned to go, but then whirled and lifted a threatening finger, "And I had better not hear of you threatening or even pressuring your staff in order to get your way.  I_ will _find out."_

_The hospital directors balked at her presumptuousness, drawing breath for a prolonged verbal fight._

_Realizing, perhaps, that she would be more persuasive if she softened her tone a bit, she tried a different tack. "From what I understand, he's still got at least a week of dialysis and Bacta dips before he'll even be awake enough to be able to breathe on his own." She nodded to the guard by the door to Hux's room, "At which point he'll be served with his trial summons, and have, at a minimum, one month before the process begins in earnest, even though he'll still need months of therapy.” She gave them a practiced smile. “You should be proud of what you've done here, not ashamed. He's received excellent care, as he should. I have no love for this man, but we are not the Empire, nor the First Order, and no matter our personal feelings, we must not treat our enemies as they do.  We cannot allow cold-blooded vengeance and mob rule to take root in our ranks. It will divide us. It will destroy us."_

_Leia paused just long enough to see their red-faced shame before walking away, and the directors mumbled amongst themselves for a moment before the video cut off._

_“As I’m sure you can surmise from the HoloVid,” Zeesha spoke, letting the camera focus on her face for a moment before panning out to the crowd, which had doubled in size since the last update, “General Hux’s surgeries -- five or six, in total, if our sources are correct -- have been completed. Now all that remains is to allow him to become coherent enough to be legally served his trial summons. As that day draws nearer, so do the crowds of protesters, some of whom have turned to violence in the debate over capital punishment.  However, that argument may be out of our hands; we have even more news concerning the details of his case.”_

_The HoloVid cut in again, what seemed like only moments after her confrontation with the hospital directors, as General Organa spoke with her son.  Amazingly, the footage, though still low quality, came from inside the room, just behind where the two of them sat in hushed discussion.  It had the same, strange, side-to-side motion of the previous HoloVid._

_"—pulled some strings at the Justice Department to find out more about his summons.” Leia put her hand on her son’s, which was pressed against the transparisteel casing of a Bacta tank. “It's going to be a military tribunal, not a civil case."_

_"What does that mean for him?"_

_Leia looked at Hux, floating unconscious in the blue-tinted gel. She stared at him for a moment before taking a deep breath and delivering the news. "It means he won't have a defense team, only one, military-appointed lawyer, and," she sighed, "they could ask for the death penalty, if the panel of judges agrees unanimously to pursue it."_

_Ben's voice rose a notch higher. "What?"  Leia reached out a hand to comfort him, but he jumped up, his chair barking against the plasteel floor, and cast about as if for an escape. "No!" he shouted, "They can't do that! The Republic doesn't support capital punishment!” He backed into the tank, arms spread as if to defend it, “I— I promised him I would keep him safe! I never would have brought him here if I thought— It— It’s all lies isn’t it? The whole Republic! Nothing but a bunch of frelling_ lies _!"_

_"Ben, please. I'm not about to—"_

_An alarm started to go off, shrill and insistent, from one of the machines.  General Hux jerked in the tank, convulsing. Ben gasped and clutched his sides as though he were in pain. Two nurses rushed in and the footage blurred, though the audio was still clear before it cut off entirely._

_The deep voice of the Jedi, rumbling under all the other noise in the room. "What's wrong? What's happening to him?"_

_"He's coughing, fighting against the respirator.” The nurse clicked on an amplification device, so her voice could be heard inside the Bacta tank, “General Hux, we need you to relax.  You're on a ventilator.  Let it breathe for you; don't fight the machine."_

_Ben, again. Softer. "Tage? Can you hear me? I'm sorry. It's alright, love. You're ok. Try to calm down."_

_Zeesha paused for a moment after that final line, letting the implications sink in._

_"As you can see, this confirms that Ben Solo, son of General Leia Organa, is romantically involved with General Hux.  Not only that, but General Organa herself has made it clear that she defends the presence of the Starkiller on Chandrila.  Since receiving this footage, QCN has sought to verify that General Hux's trial will in fact be a military tribunal, and that those in charge will indeed seek the death penalty, as so many have expressed a desire for.  So far, the office of the New Republic Navy has yet to comment on this revelation.  If this is true, it will be a first in New Republic history -- not even the generals and admirals of the Empire were tried under threat of capital punishment, despite equally appalling charges of torture, enslavement, genocide, and mass murder."_

_The HoloCast switched from a view of the protesters and Zeesha outside the hospital and paused on a recording of a massive First Order vessel hovering above an arid-looking, reddish planet._

_"While we’re on the subject of crimes against civilization, it seems the loss of Starkiller Base has done little to disrupt the First Order's world-destroying power.  This is a sighting of a First Order_ Mandator IV _-class warship in orbit above Socorro, brought to us by a brave transport ship captain who prefers to remain anonymous.  Gentlebeings, I must warn you, what you are about to see may shock you."_

 _The transmission resumed.  With horrifying slowness, the warship lowered two, gigantic auto-cannons and fired a single barrage upon the planet below.  Even at that great a distance, the shock wave could be seen rippling outward in concentric circles, upending and pulverizing entire cities and mountain ranges thousands and thousands of miles from the points of impact within minutes of the strike.  After the debris cloud had completely covered the planet, the dreadnought turned away.  Just as it elongated and disappeared into hyperspace, an entire First Order fleet -- 3_ Resurgent _-class battlecruisers, 3_ Imperial II _-class star destroyers, 5_ Imperial I _-class star destroyers, a host of TIE fighters and other heavy and light cruisers, as well as another_ Mandator IV _-class warship -- jumped into the space where it had once been. At this point, the transport vessel wisely turned tail and leapt away itself, ending the recording._

_"In the aftermath of this mindless destruction, which occurred a mere 6 hours ago, Republic scoutships have surveyed the damage and reported back. The fleet has moved on.  There were no life signs; the destruction of Socorro was complete. Over 300 million souls lost."_

_Zeesha's curly head-tendrils fell around her face as she lowered her head.  After a moment of silence, she looked up at the camdroid again, unshed tears glittering in her purple eyes._

_"Since this report made its way to us, several other sightings of First Order fleets have been reported, but not confirmed, around planets in Outer- and, disturbingly, Mid-Rim sectors.  I'd like to stress that these reports amount to no more than rumor until confirmation has been made, but it seems that, after a strange delay, the First Order is continuing their push toward the Core Worlds.  Citizens are advised to remain cautious and ready, in case evacuation orders are handed down.  We here at QCN strive to keep you up to date on the latest information.  Stay tuned for further developments."_


	22. Chapter 22

_Floating_.

He was floating again.

_Again?_

But this time it felt different.

_This time?_

His recollection of the sensation hovered just out of reach; every time he tried to grasp the memory it swam away like a slippery fish.

Intense pain had pushed him up into the realm of consciousness, but the water (or whatever he was in) made him feel as though he were still floundering in the murky darkness of his subconscious.  The most immediate locus of pain centered on his face.  He supposed they must have broken his nose and jaw again, maybe his cheekbone, too.  Beaten him while he was insensate.  His mouth was on fire, and tasted of the syrupy, cloying sweetness of an overripe spikefruit.  He sent his awareness outward, sensing the state of the rest of his body, which, surprisingly, hurt less than before.  “Less” being a relative distinction that carried little value in this case; something like the difference between being slowly trampled by a herd of nerfs or being snapped in half by a firaxan shark.

The feeling was at once constricting and almost pleasant.  As pleasant as one could feel in his situation, anyway.  He'd reached an equilibrium of sorts, a balance of the various aches and agonies that flitted through him.  He was upright, but not standing.  There was no pressure on his tortured feet, nor strain on his broken arm or hands.  He thought he might even be able to move a little, but that hypothesis proved difficult to test.  With great effort, his hand drifted forward and clunked against something solid.  Pain ignited in his knuckles.  The sound echoed around him, almost physical in nature, reverberating through the viscous fluid in the small chamber.

_I'm...inside something.  Familiar.  But... what?_

A memory took hold, but not the one he was searching for.

A box.  His father's footlocker.  Suffocating and hot.  His muscles cramping and crying out for release.  Burning like the conflagration in his mouth.

Panic stirred in his gut.  He reached out again to test the limits of his enclosure and found them to be uncomfortably close.

They _had_ put him in the box!

He had to protect his eye -- quite possibly his only eye -- but the need to see had taken hold of him like a Sith hound clamping down on its prey to keep it from the rest of the pack.  He couldn't shake the frantic need to orient himself.

_It can't be the box. It can't be!_

He would have whimpered as his eye opened and filled with the warm, gooey solution that surrounded him, but he found he still couldn't make any sound.  The thick fluid didn't hurt, as he'd expected, but he still couldn't see much through it. 

_Bacta!_

Part of him was relieved, but another troubling memory quickly took the place of the first.  The speeder bike race in his second to last year at the academy.  The crash that would have left him paralyzed and disfigured, had he not spent nearly a week submerged in the claustrophobic confines of a Bacta tank.  He'd been in constant pain then, too, due to his father's insistence that painkillers were for women and weaklings, and he'd be damned if his son would be a coddled brat.

His initial relief faded.  If they had him in Bacta now, they were only going to heal him up so they could start over.  Just the thought of enduring all of that torture again made his heart stutter and jump at a dangerous pace.

What was it they had said to him? He pushed himself to remember what he wasn't sure had even happened.  Someone had talked to him, but he didn't know who or when.  Everything ran together in a confusing jumble. 

_"You're in a hospital...  You're safe now...  You've been paralyzed... The doctors need you to stay still."_

_"...They don't want you to hurt yourself..."_

And then there had been hands around his throat, strangling him into unconsciousness, because he'd wanted to move.  Wanted to pull out all these horrible things inside him that were keeping him alive.

They didn't want him to die yet.  _What would be the fun in that?_

If this were his only chance to escape this hell, he could pull out the breathing tube and drown himself.  Maybe they wouldn't get to him in time.  But he needed to fool them into thinking he was still unconscious. He could hear the frantic pattern of beeps from the heart monitor outside.  If he didn't relax, they would realize something was afoot.

_You must collect yourself.  You can do this._

He had no control over his breathing, so he tried to focus on the rhythmic sound instead.  Feeling the tubes snaking down his throat sickened him, but he forced himself to relax and ignore them.  The regular rush of air was deafening in the confines of the tank, but it was patterned.  Orderly.  Somewhat comforting in its evenness.

In the curve of transparisteel his reflection looked even thinner than he'd imagined.  The blurriness obscured most of the details, but he could see a bundle of tubes disappearing upward and through the entrance to the tank.  He just needed to move his arms slowly, let them drift up as if floating naturally.  That part was easy enough; it took an interminable amount of effort to move at all.

As his hands ascended through the thick liquid, inching ever closer toward his fatal goal, a strange sense of calm and acceptance spread through him.  He had wanted to die many, many times in his life, but until now he'd never committed himself to going through with it.  It was... peaceful, in a way.  The warmth of the fluid around him, the sound of his blood and breath whooshing through him in a steady rhythm, even the song that had begun to whisper in his mind -- a long-forgotten lullaby from, perhaps, before his birth -- all reminded him of a place he couldn't possibly have remembered and yet was buried deep in his psyche nonetheless: the primordial buoyancy of the womb. 

It would be as though he'd never been born.

_The way things should have been._

The irony of choosing to die in a manner similar to his father struck him for a moment.  This was not the end he'd foreseen, but it would have to do.

_What a waste._

His tears melted away into the Bacta around him.

He was almost there.

_So close._

All this pain would soon be at an end.

_Please..._

He couldn't even imagine what that would be like.  That sweet oblivion that would erase every hurt he'd ever felt.  And it was _so close_.

A tiny feeling stirred in him.  The delicate restoration of the confidence he'd once felt when making decisions to further the power and reach of the Order.  This was something that needed to be done.  Something necessary and _right_.

He was just about to close his eye when something shifted outside of the tank.  Someone was out there.

_No... Please, no!_

He tried to move faster, but knew he'd be wasting his strength.  He needed every ounce of it to yank out the respirator tube.  He could feel its nauseating length lodged inside his lungs, anchored there by some kind of wedge.  It would be painful to pull out, but what was a little more agony after all this? When had fear of pain ever kept him from achieving his goals? Life was pain, and this was the only way to end it.

A form coalesced through the bubbles and refracted light.  Human, perhaps.  A cascade of reddish gold around what might have been the face.

And the song.  The song in his mind.  It was here.  He could _hear_ it.

It was real.

He stopped moving, both out of fear and fascination.  He tried to blink to clear his vision, but through the Bacta everything remained as indistinct as his memory of her.

_...Ama?_

_*Ármitage?*_

_No! No, it can't be!_ Horror flooded his veins with ice _. Get out of my mind!_

That Snoke had found her, buried deep in the secret recesses of his memory, and tried to use her against him, meant he had but seconds to complete his task before they would stop him.  In the shock of betrayal, his breath had caught just long enough to set off the ventilator alarm, and his rapidly climbing heart rate triggered yet more trills and beeps to alert them to his state of distress.  Already, he could see the watery shadows of other forms moving closer toward him.

He screamed in hurt and frustration -- or tried to -- and gagged on the tube as the machine continued to force air into him.  The reaction triggered a violent and excruciating spasm of coughing, the pain of it sapping what little remained of his strength.  He began flailing about, driven by fear and desperation, hoping against all hope that his arms might at least tangle the lines and choke him anyway.

* _Ármi_ , no! Please, stop!*

The phantasm masquerading as his mother pressed itself closer to the glass.

*Please, _ah’stor_ , please, I've finally found you. I don't want to lose you again. Please.*

He felt some kind of drug once again enervating him.  His arms went numb and sank back to his sides.  He wanted to beg, to plead for mercy, but he refused to participate in this cruel trick. He would _not_ interact with this sham.  It was plain Snoke wanted to keep torturing him until his mind was as shattered as his body, and reacting to this mockery would be admitting defeat.

_No.  No more of this.  I can't... I won't--! This isn't real! None of this is real! I won't play your games! Just fracking end me already! Do it!_

Darkness swirled around him, like ink dumped into the Bacta, something about its vile presence more nauseating and menacing than a simple loss of consciousness.

_Please..._


	23. Chapter 23

“What happened?” Kylo demanded, breathless as he rushed into the ICU. “I felt his fear—”  He stopped short at the sight of Hux. Lydia’s eyes were puffy and red, and she still swiped at stray tears.  “…And yours.”

He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, triggering a hitched sob.  “I’m sorry, Ben, I should have acted more quickly, but I— I was afraid, and I thought he was just confused, scared.”  She hid her face in her hands.  “He— he tried to kill himself.”

“What? How?” Kylo eased into the seat beside her, taking her hands in his.

“The doctor said she took him off the paralytics to prepare him for being extubated, but no one expected him to be strong enough to— he started flailing about, trying, trying to pull them out, the tubes.  Trying t-to drown himself.  He—” she sobbed harder and leaned into Kylo for support. “He knew what he was doing! I could hear him, thinking about it! It was awful! He d-doesn’t think any of this is r-real! He thinks Snoke is in his mind, making him hallucinate. He thinks he’s still being… tortured.” Her voice lowered, hope fading with the sound, “He doesn’t think I’m real.”

The fear that Hux might never come around nagged at Kylo’s thoughts, but he sighed and hugged Lydia harder for a moment. “He’ll get better. It— it’ll just take time.”

He glanced over at his husband, now laid flat on the bed, his whole body encased in some sort of cocoon-like balloon.  Parts of it gleamed white like a Stormtrooper’s armor, segmented at the joints, but rounder, like the bulky space-suits of ancient times.  Hux floated inside of it, nakedness evident though blurred by the swirling liquid that coursed through the suit.  Only his head remained exposed.  “What is this?”  He ran a hand over its puffy, undulating surface, careful not to touch any of the buttons or the multitude of tubes that trailed out of it.

Lydia blinked, confused. “It’s a Bacta suit. They put him in it because they thought it might be easier on him than being submerged; the tank was so claustrophobic for him.  And they can put these on to lock the joints so he can’t move.” She motioned to the articulated shells of plasteel that covered his shoulders, wrists, elbows, hips, and knee.  “You don’t… the First Order doesn’t have them?”

“I don’t think so.”

Kylo stood to get a better look at the device and froze.  Hux’s eye was open.  “He’s awake!” he gasped, shivering; the horrible numbness in Hux’s mind chilled him to the core.  Hux was there, but so distant.  “Love? Are you—” he reached out to touch Hux’s cheek, but pulled back when he flinched ever so slightly. Kylo swallowed and fought to keep the sadness from his voice. “It’s ok,” he whispered, “It’s me. I won’t hurt you.”

_Don’t touch me.  Don’t touch me.  Don’t touch me…_

The mantra that played through Hux’s mind was less a conscious thought directed at Kylo than a constant track of fear, like the ominous bass rumble of music accompanying a frightening scene in a HoloDrama.  Hux tried to swallow but grimaced, his re-grown tongue working at the ET tube and the small, plastoid blocks the nurses had placed between his teeth to prevent him from biting down on the tube.  His discomfort echoed through their bond in the Force.

Hoping to bring him around with some good news, Kylo murmured, “Tage? Your mother says the doctors are preparing to take the ventilator tube out. You’ll be able to breathe on your own again, and it won’t be so—”

_That’s not my mother. This isn’t Kylo. None of this is real.  Don’t give in to it.  You have to see through this.  You have to— to— Why can’t I see through this? Stop it! Get out of my head! Get out! This isn’t real! Please… Supreme Leader, please. I’m sorry! I won’t— I’ll— I’ll be good! I’ll do whatever you ask! Please!_

Kylo cringed at the rapid-fire shift in emotions: intense anger and determination crashing into fear and a desperate, child-like reversion to escape the pain.  Hux wasn’t thinking this at him, like he did when they were communicating; these were his private, inner struggles. Kylo didn’t know what he could do to break through this persistent paranoia.  Hux had retreated here to protect what remained of his sanity _.  If I keep pushing_ … He shivered from the icy fear that chased through his veins. _What if I can’t find a way to convince him this is all real?_

Behind him, Lydia’s breath stuttered. She could hear what Hux was thinking, too.  So far she’d only tried singing to him -- ancient Arkanisian and other, even older, lullabies that she had sung to him as a baby -- hoping it would touch something in him that would allow him to trust her and believe in her.  But, after an initial pause, it only seemed to make him retreat further down his spiral of panic.

Right away, he’d reasoned that if Snoke knew about her, then of course he knew everything that Hux knew about her.  Including any songs she would have sung. 

She would have to think about what else she could try.

Kylo strengthened his resolve and gave it another go. *Tage, remember how you once told me that you were surprised my presence in your mind felt different than Snoke’s? Can you feel that now? You always said he made you feel cold and sick, but that I was sharp, yet warm.  Who does this feel like to you?*

Hux continued to stare straight ahead, refusing to look at him, but his frantic thoughts slowed for a moment.

Kylo called forth that familiarity, reaching deep down for the love he felt for his husband and bringing it to the surface, allowing it to spill over like an overly full, warm bath.

 _This is just a trap… It— He knows how this feels.  He can hear everything I think.  He knows everything.  There are no more secrets.  He knows how Kylo… touches me._   He shuddered.  A tear spilled from the corner of his eye.  _He knows everything.  He can make me feel anything he wants—_

*He can’t make you feel loved.  He doesn’t know what love is.*

Kylo held his breath at the stillness in Hux’s mind, hoping that this was the kind of logic that would click with him.  A tense silence passed between them.  Then, a statement, heart-wrenching in its simplicity.

 _…_ I _don’t know what love is._

Lydia cried out as if she’d been shot and leaned over to kiss his forehead, interspersing her flurry of kisses with lamentations. “Oh, my baby! My precious boy! What did he do to you? What did that monster do? How could he have changed you so?”

Holding his hand to his mouth to prevent similar cries from escaping, Kylo argued, *Of course you do! You told me so. You said you loved me.*

Hux retreated further into himself, his only response a cold and consuming fear, swallowing up his consciousness once more. 

“Everything ok in here?”

The nurse’s voice startled Kylo.  He turned, and the grim look on his face told her what she needed to know.

“We wanted to start his breathing trial, to see if he’s ready to come off the vent,” Dr. Kalonia explained, following the young Twi'lek nurse in.  “Do you think he’s well enough to try now? It’s important that he remains calm.”

Kylo’s mouth opened and closed, searching for the answers to fill the void.  “He’s… I don’t know. He wants it out, but—” He looked back to see if Hux had reacted to the other presences in the room.  He continued to stare up at the ceiling, unresponsive.  Hux felt almost as distant as he had when Kylo was multiple star systems away.  “He’s not— he’s not really responding.  He thinks this isn’t real.”

“Hmm,” the doctor nodded, considering. “On the other hand, this may be the most relaxed he’s been so far, while awake, and the sooner the tubes come out, the faster he’ll recover.  Without the vent, he won’t need to be on such heavy sedatives, and his memory will improve as well.  That should help with the anxiety a little.  As long as you can monitor him and help us out, I’d like to start weaning him from the machine.”

Kylo felt the truth of that lance through his heart.  Hux had been so frightened every time he’d awakened, unable to remember where he was or what was happening to him.  Every post-surgical check, and all the other times he’d woken up on his own because of the poisons still lingering in his system, interfering with his rest, Kylo had patiently explained the situation, quieting his frantic heart with soothing whispers.  He’d been able to calm Hux, mostly, but his own stability was in tatters.  He couldn’t bear seeing him so distraught anymore.

“Ok.  Maybe… maybe it will be good for him.”  Kylo turned back to Hux and tried to reach him.  *The doctors want you to try breathing on your own, so they can see if it’s ok for them to take the tube out. Ok?*

Hux didn’t answer, but Kylo could feel him straining to tamp down the desire to respond.  He wanted these tubes out so badly it was enough to shift his focus ever so slightly in Kylo’s direction.  He watched Kylo for a few seconds, suspicion lingering in his eye, before looking away again.

“He wants it out.  Maybe we should let him try,” Lydia said.

Kylo nodded and Dr. Kalonia moved over to his side.  “General Hux, I want to be sure you understand what’s going to happen, so that you can remain calm.  We’re going to run what’s called an SBT, a spontaneous breathing trial, to see if you can be taken off the respirator. First, we’re going to move you into a more upright position, and then suction out anything still in your stomach so that if you feel nauseous at any point there will be less risk of aspiration.  We’ll also suction the endotracheal tube to make sure it’s clear of any secretions that might increase the difficulty of respiration.  I’m sorry; this is going to make you cough, but that’s normal, and a good sign that you’re ready to come off the vent.”

Hux’s heart-rate rose at the thought of the excruciating pain he’d endured during previous coughing fits.  He flicked his gaze over to her and then to the Twi’lek nurse who was leaning over the machine, tapping notes into her datapad and preparing to turn down the settings.

“It’s ok,” Kalonia smiled, speaking in a comforting tone, “We know that your cough reflex is already strong enough, so we’ll be as quick as possible.  Nurse Tarkin has already administered a mild painkiller to help with that.  It should be taking effect soon.”

Kylo could see Hux trembling, causing the Bacta to shimmer and swirl under the translucent skin of the suit.

“After suctioning, we’ll gradually turn down the vent settings until it’s off, at which point you’ll be expected to breathe on your own for up to 30 minutes.  There will be a temptation to breathe rapidly, and shallowly, but we need you to take deep, regular breaths for the duration.  I know it will be painful for you, but if your O2 stats drop too far, or your heart is working too hard, we’ll have to turn it back on and try again tomorrow.  If you can pass the first 30 minutes with no problems, we’ll look at extubating today.”  She smiled again, this time patting his shoulder. “Just relax, try not to think about the tube, and you’ll do fine.  I know it's hard.  If it helps, we can put on a HoloDrama as a distraction, or perhaps some music.  How does that sound?”

Again, Hux didn’t respond, fearful that he was still being tricked, but his mind couldn’t help wandering to one of his favorite operettas at the mention of music.  It felt like an eternity since he’d last had the time to listen to anything other than voice memos and reports.  Even if this was all a farce, it would be a welcome distraction.

Kylo answered for him. “I think he might like some music.  I have some on my datapad.”

“Patch it through channel 157.321, and it will play through the speakers on the monitors,” Emlii said, checking the control box attached to Hux’s Bacta suit.  She adjusted the volume and flow to make it easier for him to be propped up in the bed.  After Kylo started the music and returned his datapad to a pocket inside his robes, she continued, “Can you help me sit him up?”

“Of course.” As Emlii raised the upper part of the bed, Kylo held out his hand to lift Hux's upper body ever-so-slightly forward with the Force.

The heart monitor pinged immediately.  Hux’s eye widened in panic.  Kylo stared for a moment, confused as to his reaction.  He hadn’t felt pain coming from his husband so much as a staggering dread.  “Hux? Are you—?”

The image flashed into Kylo’s mind, so clarified by the adrenaline rush of terror that it was as though he were a part of it, standing in the halls of Hux’s past, witness to his misery.

 _Hux stood in the throne room of the_ Supremacy _, barely controlled fear snapping his posture rigid.  Some minor setback with Starkiller Base had brought him here, but as a general and director of the project, the responsibility for the failure was his and his alone.  He could feel the stares of the Praetorians from behind their faceless masks, and the weight of the accusing glare from the unmoving, crooked figure on the throne.  “Supreme Leader, I’ve come to apologize for the recent delays, and to assure you that—”_

Kylo felt the phantom pain from the memory, a shadow of the past that had claws as cold and real as the ones Snoke had closed around Hux’s throat with the Force.

_Without the slightest gesture on Snoke’s part, Hux gasped and choked, able to let out only a strangled yelp as Snoke harnessed the Force to lift and slam him into the ground repeatedly, screeching at him about having tolerated his incompetence, failures, and delays for far too long.  The agony didn’t bother Hux as much as the abruptness of the violence, even when his knee cracked open and his wrist fractured in an attempt to brace his falls.  He was used to pain, after all.  However, the visceral fear that he would be killed as he scrabbled at the ground, Snoke pushing him backwards until he was dangling over the chasm behind him, ignited a frenzy of panic._

He expected that to happen now.

In his mind, it _was_ happening now.

“Wait,” Kylo exclaimed, setting Hux back down as quickly and gently as possible, and releasing his hold on him.  “Tage, no! I would never— I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to— I didn’t know!” The sting of tears in his eyes was nowhere near the torment of knowing that he’d hurt his love, and nothing like the burning embers of rage that crackled underneath his sorrow.  He stumbled backwards, as though physical distance would remove him from his shame.

Hux looked at him in silence, betrayal shimmering in his eye.

Kylo had known his use of the Force made Hux uneasy, but he’d never understood why.  He’d always assumed Hux distrusted it out of sheer arrogance and disdain for anything unscientific.  On the rare occasion he’d used it to support some contorted position during their lovemaking, Hux either hadn’t noticed or hadn't cared.  But, from their escape from the Finalizer until now, Hux had been unconscious whenever Kylo or Lydia had moved him.

“I’m sorry, love; please forgive me.  I would never hurt you like that.  Please.  I swear to you, I didn’t know!”

The nurses and doctor had no idea what had just happened, but they stood still and kept a respectful silence as Ben attempted to comfort and reassure Hux. 

Kylo was hesitant to touch him, for fear he’d make everything worse, but he needed Hux to know he was real and sincere.  Slower than a planet’s decaying orbit, Kylo approached and placed a shaking hand on Hux’s cheek, brushing away his husband’s tears with his thumb.  “It’s me, love.  I only want to help.  Please trust me.  I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Lydia stood to the side, fuming, not at Ben but at the fact that Brendol wasn’t the only one who’d abused her son.  _Has his entire life been nothing but fear and suffering?_ Even if her knowledge of Ben’s true identity had led her to lose faith in him, his clear concern and love for Armitage brought tears to her eyes and relief to her heart.  She watched as he patiently talked Hux back from the edge of another panic attack and pacified his racing heart once more.

Though Hux hadn’t come around completely, he’d at least fallen back into a numb sort of acceptance.

The medical staff looked on with a commendable patience of their own.  Once Hux’s heart rate had returned to a normal rhythm, Dr. Kalonia broke the silence. “Do you think we should continue, or try again tomorrow?”

“I think… maybe it’s ok.” Kylo tried to catch Hux’s eye, “Love, the nurses can sit you up, but I’m afraid it will hurt you more than if I use the Force to do it. Will you let me?”

Kylo wasn’t sure which hurt _him_ more: Hux’s reluctance to trust him, or his deep resignation to being tortured again.

“Please. I don’t want you to be in any more pain than can be helped.”

He felt the barest twinge of Hux’s fearful acquiescence; not so much approval as an acceptance of his fate.  Kylo nodded to Emlii and pulled Hux forward again, tiptoeing through the minefield of his injuries.  Soon he was upright, the pain flaring in his back drawing attention away from the discomfort of the tubes.

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Kalonia said, motioning for the nurses to begin the procedure, “This is going to be uncomfortable for you, but it will be over with quickly.”

Hux gagged as they reversed the flow of the NG tube and emptied the meager contents of his stomach.  He struggled not to throw up, feeling it move inside of him.

“Try to relax your throat,” Emlii said as she monitored the uptake and scanned him to be sure everything was coming out without any blockages. “Focus on the music. We’re almost done.” 

Squeezing his eye shut to try to stop the tears that flowed freely down his cheek, Hux had forgotten about the music entirely.  His shaking and the tension in his throat and abdomen jostled his tender ribs and the fiery lacerations across his back.  He tried to relax his throat like he did when… _No!_   He tensed and gagged harder at the peripheral memory.  Pain flared in his chest and throat.  He tried to move his arm, to reach out for help, but he still couldn’t move.  His body felt so thin and useless, and yet so impossibly heavy.

Kylo, sensing his need, reached out to stroke the short tufts of ginger hair that had grown back in patches around the scabs that marred his head.  “It’s ok, love, it’ll be over soon.”  Seeing his husband’s face contort in silent agony pained him nearly as much as it did Hux.  “I know it hurts. Try to relax. It’s almost over.”

He had almost recovered from the stomach suctioning when the sucking and prodding in his chest started up.  He only coughed a few times, but the pain and his tenuous control over his fear caused panic to race through his body again.  Unable to cry out, afraid that this wasn’t really Kylo communicating his inner turmoil to the doctors -- or that they might not be doctors at all, just more torturers devising new ways to terrorize him -- Hux fought to stay calm.  He could hear the music, floating somewhere beyond the trappings of his physical and mental turmoil. 

 _“Diâ Nu ziji ri w'ana tina… Diâ ir ri tsûduma rokatsa tuti warirmiai_ _…”_

The meaning of the stanza settled deep in his bones, where it rekindled the tiniest spark of hope.  Thousands and thousands of years ago, at a remove incomprehensible to the human mind, beings sang of death and rebirth among the stars.  Perhaps the death of his own “star” would permit a similar transformation in him.  Perhaps it already had. 

He felt the breath leave him slowly, and for a moment he thought it had all ended, that he was free.  Then he remembered that Kylo was counting on him.  He had to breathe on his own now.  The pervasive fear of failure overrode all desire to shed his mortal shell.  How could he be free if he failed at such a simple task? But it wasn’t simple; it was agony.  The too-dry air he sucked in tickled his chest and sent him into vicious, stabbing paroxysms, again and again. _Please… please, stop…_ He willed himself to take shorter, slower breaths, trying to subdue the fire in his lungs.

It worked, for a time, but then there was Kylo’s voice, whispering in his ear, exhorting him to take deeper breaths. 

“His O2 is 80 and falling,” someone said.

“Come on, love, you can do it. You’re ok. Just breathe. Listen to me. Listen to the music. Remember how you felt whenever we went to the opera? You’d just lose yourself, disappear into the sound. Can you try that now?”

At last! A pleasant snippet of his past swam to the surface of his thoughts. He tried hard to keep hold of the ephemeral image and the feelings that came with it.  _The familiar curve of his favorite seat, the best seat in the house, a benefit of being a high-ranking officer.  Kylo beside him, waiting for the lights to go down so he could sneak his hand under Hux’s.  Feeling safe in the darkness of the theater, as he rarely did elsewhere.  Letting the beautiful swell of song take him to a place far from the daily concerns of life, into a world he rarely ventured into: imagination._

No matter how hard he tried to hold on, the sounds of the machines that were keeping him alive, and the voices and rustling presence of the doctors, kept drawing him back into the hell of reality, or whatever this was.  He gulped in breath after breath, but the pain just kept building, and it didn’t feel as though he were actually taking in any air.  He couldn’t bring himself to participate in this cruelty anymore, though the urge to yawn and inhale deeply pressed at the back of his throat, insistent and inevitable.  Eventually he gave in, drawing in a wheezing gasp of air that pushed against his tortured ribs.  The agony made him gag again, restarting the whole cycle.  Somewhere behind all of his distress, he registered someone wiping away his tears, and the snot and saliva that dripped down his chin. _Pathetic. I must look a mess. Please, just let this be over!_ He wanted to let go and wail in pain, but the attempt to make a sound only increased his misery tenfold.

He opened his eye, but squeezed it shut again as soon as he saw the faces of all the people staring at him, seeing him in such a shameful, weak state.

_Oh, stars, how long has it been? I can’t… I can’t do this!_

“You _can_ do it, love.  I’m sorry, I know it hurts, but you have to.”

_How long, Kylo? Please, I can’t…_

“Don’t worry about how long. Just breathe. Try not to think about it.”

_Please! Tell me! How much longer?_

Realizing it would only make Hux panic even more to be kept in the dark about the details, Kylo reluctantly answered, “… It’s only been 5 minutes.”

 _Five!_ The despair in his mental voice was enough to make Kylo cry. 

Hux gasped and struggled for each breath, his heart pounding.  He could feel it thumping against his fragile ribs, afraid it would break through the weakened bones.  There was no way to ignore the tubes rubbing against his throat; every inhalation made their irritating presence that much more obvious and disturbing.

Dr. Kalonia’s voice sounded urgent but gentle, “General, you need to take deep breaths.  We’ll try to up your pain meds some more, but you have to breathe slowly and deeply.”

Beginning to feel dizzy, Hux tried again, pulling in a long, agonizing breath that set off another round of excruciating coughing and gagging.

“O2 down to 70,” Ven reported.

“Alright, that’s a fail at 7 minutes, 25 seconds.”

 _Fail._   The word struck him like the gong of a massive bell, temporarily deafening him and muting all other sensations.  _You failed.  You’re worthless.  Can’t even do a simple thing like breathe.  You don’t deserve to live.  Pathetic!_

“We’ll try again tomorrow.  Put him back under.”

 _No!_ Hux’s eye snapped open, searching the faces of the people watching him for some kind of mercy.  He couldn't go through this again.  He _couldn't_.  He dropped off the edge of anxiety and slid into full-blown panic, fighting against the weakness in his limbs to thrash and struggle, but he could do little more than twitch.  _No, please! I’ll do it! Please! Please, just take them out! Please! I can’t take it anymore!_ In this state, he couldn’t even maintain his distance from this cruel deception. It all felt too real; the pain was just too much to bear.  _Please, Kylo, help me!_

Kylo squeezed his palms against his eyes to stifle his tears of sympathy, barely clinging to his own sanity in the midst of Hux’s hysteria. “Please, take them out.  He’s so— he’s so scared; isn’t there something you can do? Is there anything else that can help him breathe?”

Dr. Kalonia looked from Kylo to Hux, sighing deeply in a way she wished her patient was capable of.  She was reluctant to do anything that could endanger Hux, but at this point his sanity and safety took precedence over any possible physical problems he could encounter.  The longer she left him on the vent, the higher his chances of developing serious complications, like pneumonia.  And, anyway, if he was in too much distress, they could always re-intubate.

“You understand, this is risky,” she cautioned. “It’s highly likely that we’ll have to re-intubate him, and that will just make things worse.”  Dr. Kalonia took one look at Ben’s big, watery eyes, begging her to do something, _anything_ , and she was almost powerless to resist.  He hadn’t changed a lick from when he was a baby.  He’d always known how to employ that awkward, expressive face into getting anything he wanted.  She sighed again and shook her head.  “Ven, get the BiPAP mask ready.  Let’s go ahead and pull the ET and the NG.  If he doesn’t stabilize after 15 minutes, we re-intubate.”

Kylo exhaled in relief and tried to break through Hux's panic so he could concentrate on Kylo. “Tage? Did you hear that? They’re gonna pull the tubes, but you have to breathe, love.  You have to try really hard, or they’re gonna put them back in.”

Hux blinked at him, trembling uncontrollably, but barely had time to comprehend what he’d said before the nurses followed through.

“On three: one, two, three.”

The slimy tubes snaked up and out of his chest and stomach, making him retch and dry heave. Everything hurt.  He felt the reverberation of his spasms all the way down to his toes.  He coughed weakly and tried to dislodge them faster, but the pain had him teetering on the edge of consciousness.

“That’s it, you’re doing great,” Emlii encouraged, “Keep coughing. Get it all out.”  She suctioned up the sputum he coughed up, careful not to trigger his gag reflex again.

Once free of the horrible tubes, his heart sank to realize his condition hadn’t improved much.  His throat was swollen and dry, and for all the spit he’d managed to work up in his earlier frenzy, he found he couldn’t swallow without his throat blazing.  His mouth felt and tasted disgusting, thick with the soured sweetness of Bacta.  A blush of humiliation spread upward to his ears when he couldn’t stifle the tiny, rasping whimpers that escaped with each breath.  At least the redness of his face, from all his straining and coughing, hid his embarrassment.  He wasn’t gagging anymore, either, which was better, but the entire length of his esophagus burned.

Kylo thought about a time, not so many years ago, when they had hated one another. When seeing Hux in this kind of pain would have, if not pleased him, evoked a superior indifference.  The most generous emotion Kylo would have been willing to waste on him was pity. Every hitched, desperate breath in Hux's ineffectual struggle to stop coughing spread agonizing fire through his chest.  Kylo would have put him out of his misery as an act of mercy, perhaps, but this weakness, this attachment, this sentiment, Hux's naked helplessness, would have sickened him. 

Now, every pained gasp and hoarse whine stabbed him directly in the heart, and the mere thought of how he'd have treated Hux struck him as if he'd impaled himself on his own fiery blade.

Hux tried to speak, but only a wheezing, papery squeak tore free from his raw throat, like dry leaves crackling in a fire. “K-K—” he tried between panting gasps, his lips working around the word like a fish out of water gulping at air, “K-Ky-Ky—”

As ecstatic as he was to hear even a shred of Hux’s voice again, Kylo froze when he realized what he was trying to say.  “Shh, it’s ok, love. Don’t speak; it’s ok. I’m here.”  He traced his thumb over Hux’s cracked lips, shushing him.  In his mind, he spoke, *You have to call me Ben, here, love. Just call me Ben. Ok? I’ll explain later.*

“B-Be— Ben,” he squealed, his voice cracking and his desiccated tongue clicking through the syllables, “W-wat-t—”.

“I’m here. I’m right here. Shh. Just keep thinking what you need. I can hear you. It’s ok.” Kylo swiped at his own tears with one hand while tracing the sharp outline of Hux’s cheekbone with the other. 

_Water, please. It hurts. So dry. Repugnant._

Disgust emanated from Hux more strongly than the time he’d caught Kylo putting the milk in before the tea. Kylo allowed himself the slightest of smiles at that recollection. 

“Can he have some water?” Lydia asked, already on the move toward the refresher.

“Just enough to wet his mouth.  We don’t want to take a chance that he’ll aspirate it in his condition.”

She hurried back around to the other side of the bed and held a small glass to his lips.  Hux eyed her suspiciously but his desperation for the water overrode his instinct for self-preservation.  Cringing, he took a deep breath and exhaled before trying to drink.  It felt so good to hold the cool liquid in his mouth, and even better for the few drops that trickled down his throat as he swallowed and coughed weakly.

“Ok, that’s enough for now,”Dr. Kalonia ordered, “Let’s get the mask on him and see if that helps.”

“Nnn— no,” he begged, trying to sip at some more as she pulled the glass away so Ven could place the mask over his nose and mouth, fastening the straps securely behind his head.

“I’m sorry, _ah’stor_ , you can have more later.” It pained Lydia to deny him such a simple request, but he was already treading water and barely keeping his head above the waves.  She reached over to smooth his hair down around the straps, and tried not to let it hurt too much when he flinched at her touch.  “Try to rest, now.  You’re safe.  Everything’s going to be just fine.”

Hux looked from her, to Kylo, and back again.  It was hard to get a good look at her on his blind side, but the hint of a memory flickered at the small, hopeful smile she gave him.  The dulled pain that throbbed throughout his body fleshed out the image.  _A woman, clutching his tiny, feverish body to her breast, feeding him some cool, mild broth._   She was much older now, her copper hair streaked through with silver, but the way the curls spilled over her shoulders, the way she looked at him with such adoration in her bright, sea-green eyes…

He knew this woman.


	24. Chapter 24

_“…Ama?”_

Hux’s whisper scoured his raw throat, and could barely be heard through the oxygen mask, but Lydia understood him. 

“Yes!” she cried, tears of joy leaving warm tracks down her cheeks. “Yes, _ah’lan_ , it’s me.” Lydia cupped his face as gently as she could, leaning closer so that he could see her better.  He blinked in confusion, his lungs still straining to pull in air, and tried to speak again.  “Shh. It’s alright. Don’t speak; just breathe.” She smiled, more tears falling. “Oh, _ah’stor_ , I know you must have so many questions, but please, just rest for now. I’m not going anywhere.”  

"Is he awake?"

Absorbed by their worry for Hux, they hadn't noticed the Republic soldier enter the room.  Kylo glared, ready to throw her out, but Dr. Kalonia interceded. "He is, but this is not a good time. We're in the middle of an exam."

The officer continued, undaunted, "Is he capable of understanding me?"

Though Lydia tried to keep Hux's attention on her, his gaze flicked toward the new voice in the room.  He panicked, but the majority of his fear clung to his difficulty breathing.

 _No... Kylo would never have surrendered me to the enemy.  If he had really come back to rescue me he would have destroyed Snoke or died trying._   Hux shifted his stare to Kylo, then to his 'mother’, his gaze icing over with suspicion.  He glared at the woman before him, her work-worn hands touching his face with tender care.  She seemed real.  But… perhaps _too_ real for his hazy recollection of her. 

Conflict churned within him.  A tiny part of him had never believed the horrible things Brendol had said about her, but as time and distance wore on, and Brendol's influence and conditioning eroded his memories of her, loneliness and longing crushed his fragile hope that she would one day find him.  Doubt crept in to fill the hole that depression had left in him.  _She never wanted me.  She never loved me._ _This can’t be her.  Why would she care?_ But, no matter how much he told himself he was unloved, he couldn’t help missing her.  He had stomped down his feelings his entire life, but a deep need for unconditional love had always lurked somewhere in the recesses of his subconscious. _How dare he bring her into this!_

He barely heard half of what the officer said as she read out the charges.  Anger, the need to concentrate on breathing through the pain, and the lingering cloud of confusion from the sedatives and painkillers made her words difficult to follow.

"General Armitage Hux of the First Order, I hereby place you under arrest, pursuant to code 45C-129.569: execution of an arrest warrant for an enemy combatant and accused war criminal under the Galactic Concordance, Article 5, Sub-Section Desh-14... charges of flagrant disregard of the laws of war, including but not limited to: mass murder, targeting of civilians and non-military personnel in peacetime, maltreatment of prisoners of war, torture, performance of summary executions, kidnapping, the engagement of children as combatants... as outlined in this summons... military attorney will be assigned to you… Preliminary hearings to convene no less than 30 days from the issuance of this summons..."

 _Preposterous!_ Hux narrowed his eye and sneered at the soldier.  _You're not real, and even if you were, who's the war criminal here? Who's the terrorist who started this whole mess? Your so-called government is a sham and a joke. Enough already._

Kylo took the flimsiplasts from the woman and pressed his thumbprint to the scanner she held out. He stared at the datawork for several minutes, transient emotions twisting his features from fear to anger to sadness, until the guard stepped forward to shackle Hux with magnacuffs.

Though he knew none of this was real, Hux's heart stuttered nonetheless. Perhaps they'd decided he'd healed up enough, and they were cuffing him now to begin the torture anew.  He swallowed back a cry of protest, but it wouldn't have been heard anyway over Kylo's, Lydia's, and the doctor's shouts.

An undercurrent of imminent violence crackled around them.  They argued with the soldier, voices and tension rising.  Only the Twi'lek nurse's quiet voice cut through the cacophony.

"O2 at 85 and falling," she warned.

Hux pushed himself to even out his breaths, but he could feel panic pressuring him to breathe faster in anticipation of pain.  He desperately wanted to avoid re-intubation, but he tried to keep his mind off it.  If Snoke knew it terrified him that much, he'd have them do it again.  He kept his focus on every inhalation burning his parched throat and igniting his rib cage with agony, letting the pain distract from his mounting anxiety.

"You need to leave, now!" the doctor barked, "I give you my personal guarantee that he is in no condition to escape, and if you continue to harass my patient I'll have you charged with assault!"

She tapped a button on her sleeve and two large, security officers appeared in the doorway to escort the soldier out.

"We'll continue this discussion later," she grumbled, marching back out to her post by the window.

Lydia and Kylo turned back to comfort him, and though their soft ministrations distressed him he couldn’t deny that he wanted to feel something other than pain.  It was nice but it wasn’t _real_.  He ached with shame and betrayal at the thought of taking pleasure from a stranger’s touch. _Stop! Don’t touch me!_

Kylo winced and backed away.  “I’m sorry, love,” he whispered.

 _Get out of my head!_ He tried to scream out loud, but only a broken, grating whisper tore from his throat.  _Get out!_

“Ok, ok, just, please, try to relax,” Lydia said, moving toward Kylo and the door.  Every step away from her son felt like a step into hell.  “We’ll go if it makes you feel safer.  We just want you to be comfortable.”

Hux didn’t know what he wanted.  The emotional turmoil tore him up inside.  After so much pain, all he wanted was a tiny bit of comfort, wherever he could get it.  It didn’t matter.  But it _did_ matter.  These people weren’t real, none of this was real, and if he gave in to it now he would have lost the only thing left to him that meant anything.  Snoke would have broken him inside and out.  He’d nearly succeeded.  Panic ratcheted up his heart rate and made the struggle to breathe even more difficult.  He had to let it all go.  Close himself off from all these faces and images and feelings crashing in on him.  He tried to recall a memory (one he knew to be true, and therefore of actual comfort, but not so precious that it would be ruined by the stain of Snoke’s presence): a quiet evening in their quarters when he’d learned a valuable skill from Kylo. 

Hux sat at his desk, agonizing over a schematic that would simply not come together.  He had a presentation to make in the next cycle, but he could not focus on what needed to be done.  He’d been without sleep for days, again, and his ability to prioritize and work through the problem step-by-step had deteriorated.  Kylo had been sitting, cross-legged, on the floor by the bed for some time.  Unmoving.  Barely breathing.  His calm had been riling Hux for hours.  _How can he just sit there doing nothing?_ His annoyance was irrational, and he knew it, but somehow that just made the irritation worse.  _Look at him, just… how can he be so kriffing calm? It’s obnoxious._

The more glances he stole toward Kylo, the more indignant he became.  Why should he be over here unravelling while Kylo was at complete peace with the world? It was an affront to the very order of things.  And… was that a grin forming on the Jedi Killer’s lips?

“What are you even doing over there?” Hux snapped. “At least sit in a chair like a civilized human being.”

“I’m meditating,” Kylo said, his eyes still closed.  His smile twitched a millimeter wider.

“Well…stop it.”

“Why?” Kylo looked at him, amusement shining in his mischievous gaze.

“Because,” Hux huffed, knowing full well he had no acceptable reason, “It’s distracting me.  I have work to do.”

“You always have work to do.” Kylo pushed himself up without touching the ground.  He walked over and draped his arms around Hux’s shoulders, leaning over to get a better look at the hologram.  “You’ve been staring at this for days.  You need a different perspective.” 

Hux frowned. Was Kylo so immersed in his mystical mumbo-jumbo that he’d forgotten how basic technology worked? “It’s a hologram. It rotates,” he sneered, waving his hand in front of it by way of demonstration.

“That’s not what I meant.”  Kylo reached down and took Hux’s hands into his.  He tugged him up from the chair.  “Come here.”

“Kylo,” Hux sighed, exasperated. “I’m not going to sit on the floor like a child and—”

Kylo led him over to the bed and pulled him down to sit beside him on the edge.

“—I don’t have time for _that_ either!”

Kylo shushed him, which would have infuriated him had it not been so gentle and if a spark of curiosity hadn’t flickered to life in Hux’s tired mind.  He positioned Hux’s hands to rest on his lap, palms somewhat upturned.  “Now, just close your eyes. Relax. Don’t think about anything.”

“That’s absurd, Kylo; you can’t _not_ think of anything. The more you try, the more—”

Kylo put a finger over his lips to stifle his protests. “Don’t try. Just do it. Breathe.”

Hux exhaled forcefully, letting his agitation be known.  _This is a waste of time…_

“Forget about all the worries of the day.  Imagine yourself someplace peaceful.  Breathe.  Of course, things will come to mind, but let them pass.  Envision a river, flowing around you.  You don’t have to catch the thoughts; just let them go on by.”

 _Well, which is it? Am I thinking of a river or am I not thinking at all?_ Hux wanted to argue, but his natural scientific curiosity was getting the better of him.  If he just did as Ren said, it would either work or it wouldn’t, most likely the latter, and then he could get back to doing real work sooner.  He wasn’t even sure what he was supposed to be doing. Just breathing? What was the point of that? He breathed all day, every day, and it had yet to impart upon him any useful epiphanies.

Various thoughts and further arguments came to him as he sat, contemplating how he was supposed to contemplate nothing, and then he realized that doing the impossible wasn’t the object of the lesson at all. 

He had to let go.  And he couldn’t. 

Releasing his deep-seated need to struggle and fight every step of the way (particularly where it involved Kylo) was nearly as insurmountable a task as thinking about not thinking.  Part of him was convinced that Ren was just setting him up for some kind of humiliation.  But he took a deep breath, and made an honest effort to do as he was told.  After all, he would never know whether or not it worked if he continued to be a stubborn curmudgeon about it.

The image of a river didn’t really work for him, so he abandoned it for a more familiar visual: the continual motion of the ocean waves.  The steady, in-and-out ebb of the tide along the gray shore bolstered his focus on his breathing as well. Kylo was still speaking, but the bass tone of his resonant voice melted into a pleasant drone, the distant roar of the waves against the cliffs.  Fewer and fewer errant thoughts perturbed him as he supplemented his mental imagery with the sensations of wet sand squishing between his toes, the briny scent of the ocean breeze, and the tingle of an approaching storm on his skin.  

Begrudgingly, he allowed himself to enjoy this fleeting moment of peace. 

Even the worry about how much time he was wasting floated past like driftwood cast ashore.

It still required monumental effort on his part to willingly ignore the legitimate worries he had to attend to, but in time it became easier to just let the intrusive thoughts pass.  Once he connected the exercise with similar efforts at visualization he’d been taught in SERE training, he admitted that maybe it wasn’t entirely esoteric claptrap, as he’d first assumed.  He was pleased to discover that this was a skill, like any other, that he could hone with practice.

That was what he needed now.  He had to return to that place of calm detachment, focus on his breathing, and shut out all these hallucinations.  He would not respond to them, nor his own thoughts about them and their dubious reality.

Hux squeezed his eye shut, feeling hot tears of shame roll down his cheek.  He was afraid, but he had to remember that it was ok to be afraid, so long as it didn’t control him.  He didn’t want to be tortured anymore, but there was nothing he could do to stop it, and dwelling on the imminent pain would only make it worse.  Snoke would break his body again and again.  Maybe he would eventually break his mind, too, but Hux intended to fight it for as long as he could.


	25. Chapter 25

It had been two days, and Hux hadn't made a sound beyond a few stifled whimpers whenever Kylo or the nurses had to attend to him.  Kylo knew that Hux's throat was still swollen and sore, but he also knew that it wasn't the reason he'd refused to speak.  The doctor had substituted a simple oxygen cannula for the breathing mask that morning, but he hadn't even reacted to that.  Hux had retreated somewhere into the depths of his mind, dissociating so severely that nothing Kylo said or did could evoke a positive response from him. 

It hurt.  Even though Kylo told himself he deserved it, he couldn't mitigate the tightness in his chest.  That Hux thought he wasn't real, that he would deliberately harm him, constricted his heart and crushed his spirit.  He'd done his best to keep up appearances -- smiling, talking to Hux whenever he was awake, playing his favorite music in hopes of calming him and helping him relax, trying to make him understand that he was safe -- all the while caging his own emotions so that his sorrow wouldn’t make Hux feel even worse.  He'd tried to keep out of Hux's thoughts, too, as much for his own sanity as Hux's, but it was difficult not knowing if his actions were causing more pain to the man he loved.  To make matters worse, Kylo hadn't slept much either, only able to catch quick catnaps whenever Hux drifted out of consciousness, which was much rarer now that Hux was off the ventilator and unable to be deeply sedated.  He had been jumping at the slightest sound or movement in the room, his anxiety and worry over his husband's mental state keeping him primed like a thermal detonator whose sequence had been paused at the last second.  He'd already snapped at two nurses, a doctor, and even the janitor.  He desperately needed a break before he exploded.

Detecting the presence of another Force-user, Kylo glanced over his shoulder.  Leia stood outside the window, arms folded across her chest, watching.  Her Alderaanian mourning braid had been rearranged into a simpler style, but her eyes still held a profound sadness that Kylo supposed would never disappear entirely.  He wondered how much of that had been his fault, versus the galaxy conspiring to take away every happiness she'd ever claimed.  Enough, he supposed, that it didn't matter.

He didn't know how long she'd been standing there.  Lack of sleep had dulled his senses.

She gave him an expectant look and tilted her head as if to summon him.

Lydia occupied the bed in the corner, taking her turn at fitful sleep, and Kylo didn't want to disturb her.  Hux's catatonia hadn't been any easier on her, and she needed her rest.   _It'll be ok if it's just a few minutes..._

Hux reflexively glanced over at Kylo when he shifted, but flicked his gaze back into the distance as Kylo stood up, leaned over, and kissed his forehead.  "I'll be right back, Tage.  Your mother's just over there if you need anything."

He hadn't expected a response, but the lack of one stung nonetheless.  Guilt sprang up at the sensation of Hux's anxiety rising, but Kylo had to get out of the room, if only for a few minutes.  At least his mother's presence gave him an excuse.

Kylo shuffled out into the hallway, glaring at the guard out the corner of his eye as he passed, and nodded an informal hello to Leia.  He felt the awkward silence well up between them, but Leia turned to him, more sympathy than he’d expected to find in her penetrating gaze.  She reached up and placed a hand on his cheek.  He flinched, expecting a slap, but her touch was gentle and her expression one of conflicted anguish.

“I can feel your exhaustion,” she smiled her own tight, weary smile, “and your pain.”

Kylo’s expression shifted from a frown of denial to acceptance.  His jaw clenched and he swallowed hard, feeling the sting of unshed tears in his dry, tired eyes.  He didn’t want to show weakness in front of this woman who had always exemplified strength and resilience in the face of loss, part of which was his own fault.  _I have no right to her sympathy…_

“Luke… told me what happened.  I’m sorry.  I know I wasn’t always there for you, but I’m here now.  I only hope I’m not too late.”

“No,” he choked, “It’s not too late.” 

“Perhaps we can still forgive one another.”

He nodded, exhaling a tremulous breath.  If his expressions were an open datafile to everyone else, she was the author; he could hide nothing from her.  She continued to watch him, knowing he had more to say by the way his mouth moved around the words, tasting the bitterness in them before spitting them out.  

“I was so alone,” he finally hissed, trying to stoke an anger that wouldn’t flare.  His kindling had burned out, leaving behind an ashen husk soon to be washed away in the rush of his tears.  “I needed… I needed you.  I needed dad.  But you left me with him, and he… he tried to…”

She brushed away his tears and held his face in both of her delicate hands.  “I know, Ben.  I know, and I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t mean to— I didn’t want— No, I did, but…” he shook his head to clear his thoughts, “I really thought it was too late for me.  That I would need that power to save myself.  To save Hux.  To fight off Snoke but... I was so foolish.  I wanted out but I didn’t have anywhere left to go.  I didn’t want—” Kylo cut himself off.  They were all just excuses, and no matter how real they may have been, that wasn’t what she needed to hear.  It wasn’t what he needed to say.  “I’m so sorry.  For dad.  For everything.”

When he finally found the courage to meet her eyes again, she was smiling through her own tears.  “We’re going to start over, you and I.  It’s going to take a long time for us to trust, and forgive, one another, but we are going to make this work.”

Kylo could have laughed for all the joy and light he felt swell up inside him at those words, and he was so exhausted that he almost did.  Leia pulled him downward to smooth his wild, wavy hair and plant a kiss on top of his head.  Once again, he fell to his knees before her, hugging her tightly to him and sobbing against her stomach while she continued to stroke his hair. 

After a while, she tilted his chin up and helped him get to his feet.  “You need your rest.  A proper rest.  This is killing you.”

Kylo started to protest but she shushed him and pulled a keycard from her vest pocket, pressing it into his palm.  “I have a speeder out in the VIP lot.  It has an autopilot course set for our old apartment.  Go, get some sleep and have 3PO prepare you some real food.  I’ll stay here with Lydia and the general.  I know you love him -- only the Force knows why, but I’m going to find out -- and I'll make sure no one disturbs him.”

Kylo stared at the card in his hand for a few moments, the weight of it lighter than the guilt burdening him at the thought of leaving Hux again.  “I promised him…”

“A promise is no good if you’re dead.  Go on.  It’ll be alright.”

Leia patted him on his sagging shoulders and watched him drag himself away.  He had grown so much -- not just physically, though his size bewildered her -- and in just this short time he’d already begun to trust her with the well-being of his husband.  It was not a trust she would betray or take lightly.


	26. Chapter 26

Leia sensed the fear in Hux as she took up a seat beside his bed.  Some part of her relished the feeling, but she compartmentalized it and stowed it away as she always had with these kinds of dark impulses.  Everyone thought that Ben had inherited his emotional temperament from his father, but Leia knew better.  Though Luke had sought to teach her the ways of the Jedi, and the Force, she’d never taken him up on it beyond basic meditation and sensing others’ moods.  She knew, better than anyone, how easily she could slip into darkness.  There was a power, deep down, surging in her with the unstoppable strength of the undertow below a stormy sea.  She knew it was there, and after so much loss, the temptation to harness such power to save all that she loved would have been her downfall.  It had taken Ben, and she would have been no more immune to it than he had been.

Understanding that made it slightly easier to forgive him for all the hurt he’d caused her, but it would still take time to mend the deep wound that Han’s loss had opened in her heart.

On the other hand, Hux was responsible for the deaths of billions, but not that one in particular.  So, for now, she could sit beside this frail, broken man and somewhat objectively wonder what, in his life, had led him down the path she'd forsaken.

He was awake, but attempting to ignore her presence.  She could feel anger stirring inside him, swirling around with uncertainty and trepidation.  His humiliation at being seen like this by the enemy hummed from within him.  Leia didn’t think talking would do any good, if days of Ben being at his side hadn’t helped, but she couldn’t just sit here and let him get all worked up, even if comforting him made her feel vaguely ill.

“It’s alright.  I’m here to watch over you while Ben sleeps.  I told him to go.  He didn’t want to leave you, but he’s worn out and needs a meal and a good night’s sleep.  He’ll be back in the morning,” she explained, adding, “I’m not going to hurt you.”  _Though I could, easily…_ Leia shoved that unwanted thought aside, too.

He continued to stare into the distance, though she was certain he’d heard and understood her.

Lydia stirred at the sound of her voice and turned over, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.  “Oh, General!” She sat up and rendered a groggy salute. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Leia, please.” Leia waved her hand dismissively. “We’re both mothers here.”

“Leia, I—”

Leia saw the fear and embarrassment return to her green eyes, and the blush that colored her cheeks.

“—Where’s Ben?”

“He’s gone home to rest and get some food.  He’ll be back in the morning.  I told him I’d stay and keep watch for him.  And, actually, I was hoping to catch up with you as well.  Not right now, of course.  Go back to sleep.  I’m sorry I disturbed you.”

“No… No, it’s fine.  I can’t really sleep anyway.  I keep having nightmares about—” she trailed off, leaning over to see if Hux was awake.  It was difficult to tell from her position. “Well… about his father.” She hugged herself and shuddered.

Leia proceeded with caution, sensing both Hux’s and Lydia’s anxiety over the subject.  “You told me about him before -- when he took your son away -- but you never said much else about him.”

“There isn’t much else to say. Brendol Hux is a tyrant.” Lydia sighed, recalling both the visions from her restless slumber and the hellish reality she and her son had grown up in. “He tortured me and my son.  Physically and mentally.” She took another deep breath, debating whether or not to continue, but in a way it felt good to finally tell someone about the misery that had haunted her for the last 36 years of her life, and Leia had always been a good friend and listener.  “He caught me using the Force one night and I could almost see the hideous plan forming in his eyes.  He… used me… to try to have a Force-sensitive child.  He was obsessed with the idea of raising his own army of ‘Imperial Jedi’.  _Ármi_ wasn’t, but he didn’t know that back then.  He was to be the first.  Even when he was just a baby, that monster would inject him with experimental poisons as part of his ‘obedience program’.  He would hurt him, in hopes of forcing his powers to manifest earlier, as his intellect had.  _Ármi_ was sick all the time, and he would cry so much from the pain, but Brendol wouldn’t let me go to him.  He forbade me from spending any time with him.  He said he would stop crying if no one responded, that he needed to ‘toughen up’.  A baby.  He was just a tiny thing.  Helpless.  Barely a few months old.”  She shook her head and looked down at her hands in her lap, feeling as guilty and useless now as she had then. “He didn't know why his mother wouldn't come to comfort him.  Even all the way up in the towers where they lived, I could hear him crying.  I could feel his terror and agony.  And one night, he did go quiet.  I went mad with grief, thinking he had died.  I dashed up the stairs, even though I knew what would happen if I were caught.  But there he was, lying in his crib… just like he is now.  So sad and just… staring.  At nothing.  He wouldn’t even look at me.” 

Though Leia knew the travesties of child abuse and domestic violence happened all over the galaxy, and she knew a great deal of women, and others, in the Rebellion had suffered sexual violence in the course of the war, she certainly hadn't imagined it had happened to someone close to her.  To be truthful, she'd tried not to think about it at all, aside from what could be done to stop it.  _And, she had to live with that monster through all of it..._

Leia had difficulty imagining a parent harming their own child.  Even someone as despicable as Brendol.  She had never raised a hand to Ben, not even at his worst, and he had certainly tried her patience on multiple occasions.   Besides, the Huxes had been a wealthy family; after Maratelle had died in a final standoff against Republic soldiers, the Rebel Alliance had seized their sizable assets.  Records showed that their son had received private tutoring from some of the finest minds in the galaxy, masters in their fields whose expertise didn't come cheap.  Brendol was well-known for his pompous airs and extravagant tastes, and Leia had assumed their son had been doted upon as the sole heir to an Imperial fortune.  She’d had no idea that the child who'd been stolen from Lydia was Armitage.  Her image of him as a snooty, spoiled brat shattered.  If Brendol had done these things to him as a baby, in front of his own mother, what had he done to him once they were alone, safely ensconced in the secrecy of Imperial space?

Leia glanced at Hux as she got up to go sit beside Lydia.  He was still ignoring them, but a few tears had escaped his vigilant stoicism.  He was listening.

“I guess that’s why I’ve been thinking about Brendol so much.  Seeing him… like this…” she gestured helplessly.  “And me, just sitting here, unable to do anything to stop his pain.”

“You must have been so afraid of him.”

“I was.” She exhaled the weight of her grief, tremulous with an echo of the fear she still carried with her. “But… But I should have—”

“You did everything you could have.  You were so brave, Lydia.  You still are.  And you looked for Armitage for so long.  It must’ve been, what, ten years or more? You gave so much of yourself.  I remember how hard it was on you, losing him.”

A hiss of breath from the bed and both women looked up, startled.

Lydia approached, with small, hesitant steps, as though she might frighten him with her presence.  “ _Ah’stor_?”

Hux had been listening.  Try as he might, he couldn’t tune them out.  _Of course I can’t; this is all in my head!_ In a way it was almost as unbearable as the physical torture he’d been put through.  Armitage couldn’t remember most of his childhood, just shadows of memory -- half-formed images, smells, sounds -- but all of this must have been in there somewhere, buried deep, rooted out by Snoke or made up whole cloth to torment him.  There was just enough truth seeded to make his doubts grow.

He closed his eyes, so he wouldn’t have to look at her, but he couldn’t stop his tears, and he couldn’t stop shaking.  _She was… raped?_ The thought churned in his stomach.  Rage (and zero doubt), that his father had done this to her; sympathy, for what she had suffered; fear, over the reminder of his own assaults… and the thought that his father hadn’t been lying to him all along... She couldn’t possibly have wanted him. 

_Not after that._

Was Snoke just trying to drive home the point that he had been alone his whole life? Unloved? He already knew that.

 _But she looked for me… no.  No, none of this is real.  He’s just trying to break me.  No. I won’t.  Get out of my head!_ He didn’t want to beg, but his resolve was on the verge of snapping.  He’d spent two days staring out at what was left of his body, with what was left of his sight, slowly realizing that there was nothing left of his dignity.

“ _Ármitage_ , speak to me, please. Please, _ah’lan_ , even in your head.” 

 _What if the only thing keeping me from more torture is this? What if I give in and then this all goes away and I'm just back on the_ Finalizer _, strapped to some interrogation table? Is knowing really worth that? This will just start all over again, and next time I won't have anything left.  I can't! I can't go through this again!_

His mind whirled in an ever deepening spiral of doubt and anguish, and the harder he swam against the current the more exhausted he became. 

 _But what..._ He couldn't bear to allow himself to even think it: _What if this is... real?_

_But I don't know how I got here. I don't know how long I've been here._

_I can't remember..._

Trying to tie together the disparate flashes of memory and emotion felt like repairing an old fishing net that kept unravelling as it was woven.  Like in a nightmare.  His mind didn't work like it used to.  It frightened him to be so lost and helpless in his own head.  He'd been drugged, he knew, and the pain constantly distracted him, but there was something else, something subtly _wrong_ with him.  He couldn't focus anymore. He lost track of the simplest of thoughts. Seconds felt like minutes; minutes, like hours.

_How can I ever know what's real again?_

Even more frightening: that there was no way to know for certain.  He'd followed a logical progression of hypotheses and ended with two opposing solutions. It was impossible. Either he was here, in Republic space, being nursed back to health so that they could torture him for information, or for revenge, before executing him (which also meant that Kylo had betrayed him), or he was still on the _Finalizer,_ being tormented by Snoke's illusions whilst being nursed back to just enough health that they could torture him further until he completely broke down.

Hux was intimately familiar with Snoke's mind tricks, so the latter was the simplest and therefore the most likely conclusion, and one that allowed him to cling to the hope that Kylo did still care about him, even though he'd left him to die.  It explained why everyone he'd interacted with seemed to be able to read his thoughts.

 _Because they_ are _my thoughts.  I wanted to be saved, so this is what my mind conjured up in order to cope with this. Snoke picked up on that and ran with it.  But what if even thinking about this breaks the illusion, and I have to go back there? Just like before? How many times must I go through this? How many times have I already…_

_Why can't you just let me die? Please!_

"No, _Ármitage_ , I'm not going to let you die.  Not when I've finally found you.” She cupped his clammy cheeks and leaned in to kiss his forehead. “Please, _ah'lan_ , please let me in. I swear to you, this is real. I love you. Let me help you. Talk to me. Please!"

He opened his eye and stared at her, blinking to clear his tears.  He winced as she brushed the salt and moisture from the peaks of his eyelashes. 

“Why?” Hux croaked, then, seeing her confusion, clarified, “Why are you here? You never wanted me.”

Lydia inhaled sharply and gaped at him, her face contorting from shock to grief to anger.  “That’s not true! I’ve loved you since the day you were born! Even after the all of the terrible, terrible things you’ve done! I will always love you; you’re my son! My first!”

 _First? There were others?_   _No, don't get distracted._ He pressed his lips together and bit down on his tongue -- a subconscious effort to stop himself from saying something he would regret -- but he had to know.  He didn’t _want_ to hear it, but the drive to speak, to vent his frustrations, to _be sure_ , was as inescapable as a TIE clearing its exhaust ports as the heat from its weapons systems built up.  Hux fired. 

“Then tell me— tell me what Father said isn’t true!” His voice cracked, grating over his throat as it rose as high above a harsh whisper as it could. “Tell me he didn’t catch you going at yourself with a lyewood branch, or drinking Tarisian fanleaf tea, to rid yourself of me! Tell me!”

Lydia drew back, clapping both hands over her mouth and staring in horror at him.

Tears flowed, hot and stinging as his humiliation and anger, but his voice weakened, slipping from him in a pitiful squeak, more a plea than a demand. “Tell me!”

Her hands fell away, trembling, but she kept her gaze on his.  “He t-told you… that?”

Hux sucked in a hitching breath.  Her hesitation said more than any words could have. 

Part of him was horrified at what he was about to say, but he couldn’t stop himself, spurred on by the twin lashes of indignation and fear.  “He said you hated me.  That you— you let him do those things to me.  That you didn’t care.  That you never wanted me.  That you were just— just some na-nameless _whore_ —” even in the midst of his anger he blushed at the word, “—who never… n-never… should have borne me.” 

Lydia stood still, just watching him, for a time.  Her tears burned, but her hatred was directed at Brendol, not his son.  Dread sank its claws into her back and held fast.   _If I tell him the truth… will he hate me?_ Eventually, she decided it didn’t matter.  He deserved to know.  Too many people had lied to him and hurt him in his life.  She’d be damned if she’d add to that, even if it meant he never wanted to see her again.

Her voice hardened with determination; her tone, flat and emotionless.  “I was a cadet at the academy.  I couldn’t afford it on my own, so I paid my way through by working in the kitchens while I took classes.  I was 17.  It was my last year before graduation and commissioning.  I had been taught, by my mother, before she died, to hide my affinity with the Force, lest I be turned over to the Inquisitors.  But my scores were suffering, and I had my mid-term exams coming up, so I wanted to finish work quickly to get back to studying.  It was late.  No one else was still up.  Or so I thought.  As I washed up, I floated the heaviest plates back to their cupboards.  It was foolish, and I paid the price for it.  Brendol, coming in to sneak a late night snack, caught me.  The look he gave me was vile… Predatory.” She shivered, but clenched her fists and continued. “I barely had time to process it before he was against me, pushing me over the counter, breathing his whiskey-sodden breath on my neck, telling me I’d best be a good girl if I wanted to stay and not be turned out for treason.  He knew I could have killed him.  Snapped his fat, greasy neck right then and there.  And by the gods, I wanted to.  But I didn’t want to die.  So I let him have what he wanted.”

Hux closed his eye, trembling and ill at the thought of it.

“No,” she spit, some of her vitriol returning, “You wanted to hear this.  You look at me.  Don’t you dare look away.  Don’t you dare pity me.”

Reluctantly, Hux did as he was told.  He could understand the desire for respect; he’d never wanted anyone’s pity either. 

Lydia looked him dead in the eye.  Unblinking.  Fierce.

“He raped me.  Not just that night.  Every night, for two weeks, until he was satisfied I was pregnant.  And once the pregnancy was proven, he framed some poor cadet and drummed us both out of the academy for fraternization.  My life was ruined.  But he didn’t let me go.  He said I still had to ‘pay up’ for my time there.  There was no one I could turn to, and no way off that planet that he didn’t control.  So, no, _Ármitage_ , I did not want you.  I hated you.”  

She was crying again, sniffling, but remained stock still.  “And, yes, I tried, three times, to abort you.  But he caught me at that, too, and beat me so furiously I could have sworn he’d done the trick for me, but no.  You were still in there.  I knew he would have saved your life over mine.  I was nothing but another nerf cow to him, to breed and use up for his own gains.”

Her frown softened and pinched upward as she smiled, sadly, and timidly approached him once more.  “But then… then I had you, and everything changed.  He wanted to take you away from me.  He wouldn’t even let me hold you, or feed you.  I had to _beg_ for the privilege.  Arguing that there was no nursemaid because there were no other children there.  Until he found one, I could do it.  I _wanted_  to do it.  You were so small.  So fragile.  So beautiful.  And you were _mine_.  I could _never_ hurt you.  And I knew he despised you from the moment you were born.  I could see it in his eyes.  I could _feel_ it.  Just like the rest of us: nothing you ever did would be good enough for him.  And you were just a baby.  I couldn’t… I couldn’t let him hurt you.  None of this was your fault.  And I _loved_ you. So much.”

Hux stared at her, and despite all his pretense, wanted, no, _needed_ her touch.  He remembered her holding him after some forgotten hurt, long ago, the warmth of her bosom soothing and comforting him.  He yearned for it now.  Real or not, he no longer cared.  He needed his mother.

_Please, even if this isn't real, let me have this one moment…_

Sensing his need she closed the gap between them, hugging him awkwardly around the puff of the Bacta suit and planting soft kisses on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, reverent of all the pain she’d weathered, the things she’d gone through for him.  Things he hadn’t even _remembered_.

“You don’t need to be sorry for that,” she said between kisses and smoothing back the short tufts of his hair.  “Just let me be here for you like I never could before.  Please.”

He sniffled and gave a tiny nod.

Leia, standing off to the side, completely forgotten during this heartfelt exchange, realized she’d been holding her breath and let it out slowly so as not to interrupt.  Deeply shaken, she had a hard time remaining on her feet.  She leaned against the wall with painstaking care.

Though the atrocity Hux had committed against the Hosnian System had brought up so many painful memories of her own lost homeworld, at her core, she knew that both he and his mother had suffered enough for one life time.  There would be a trial, and they would push for the death penalty.  There was nothing she could do about that.  But she could fight for him.  She could represent him, knowing that no one else would put forth anything more than the bare minimum of effort required by law.  As confusing and sickening as the thought was, she knew it was the right thing to do.  It was the just thing to do.  She did not believe in capital punishment.  Not for Vader, who’d tortured her, and whose bloodline had destroyed her family and her career in the only fight that had ever mattered to her.  Not even for Tarkin, who’d murdered her parents, and friends, and millions of other innocents.  No matter what Hux had done, he deserved to be treated fairly by the courts.  And Leia knew enough about the inner workings of Republic politics to know they had corrupted and perverted justice to cling to what little power they’d had in the past, and they would most certainly do it again.

But not on her watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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>  That's the end of Part 2. Thank you so much for reading! Part 3 is up and running now, but I'm now doing grad school work so updates will be slow. Please check my Twitter for info! :D


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